Semper Fidelis
by Untold Harmony
Summary: She left years ago after he saved the wizarding world from the hands of Voldemort. She never thought she would be back again... until her son got his letter to Hogwarts. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**semper fidelis** (adjective)  
always faithful

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"MUM! MUM! Look what I got in the mail!" An exuberant, black-haired boy of about ten years of age cried as he ran into his mother's study room. He nearly tripped over the rug that lined the hallway before finally skidding to a halt in front of her large desk. James had never felt more excited before. Finally, _finally_ , after months of waiting anxiously, _what he was waiting for was finally here!_

"Be careful love, you don't want to hurt yourself," his mother said, raising her head from behind the stack of books piled high on the oaken desk peppered with feather carvings. She wiped a stray curl that escaped from her ponytail away from her face and looked at her son. "What do you have there baby?"

James rounded the desk and stood beaming in front of his mother. "Muuum, I told you not to call me "baby" anymore! I'm ten and three quarters!" He replied and shot her a toothy grin.

His mother laughed and ruffled his hair. She could see the mischief twinkling in his chocolate brown eyes as he exchanged familiar banter with her. It's true - he was no longer a "baby" in the literal sense of the word, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. He was growing up so fast and already she could see that the clothes she bought him not two months ago were in the process of being outgrown. He's nearly to her chin, could eat triple her usual serving during meals, and had the energy that could rival that of a Tasmanian devil. Yes - he was no longer a baby but he would always be her baby.

"What do you have there, then?" she asked. She could see the excitement radiating from his body and the grin not leaving his face. Whatever it was, he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I got my letter! My Hogwarts letter!" He all but screamed as he shoved a familiar piece of parchment into her hands.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She looked at the letter which was marked clearly with the all too familiar crest of her alma mater. A badger, a snake, a raven, and a lion were displayed on all their glory on each quadrant of the crest surrounding a very prominent H. The words "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus" were written in flowing script underneath the insignia. 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon,' Hermione thought as she was momentarily taken back to when she received her own letter those many years ago.

She remembered that day clearly. It was the first day back from Easter holidays of her Year 6 of school. She had been teased mercilessly by the kids in her class, them making jokes about her "rabbit teeth" and bushy mane saying she was not unlike the Easter Bunny. They were so cruel that she went home crying.

But when she stepped into her house and saw the pile of letters behind the door, her sadness was immediately replaced by her natural curiosity. There was this odd little envelope made of stained parchment paper that was addressed to a "Ms. Hermione Jane Granger. The East-Facing Bedroom at the Top of the Stairs." With the tears drying on her cheeks and brows furrowed in question, she ripped open the envelope to find her enrolment letter to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She read the contents and almost crumpled it up, thinking it was an elaborate joke pulled by one of her classmates. She couldn't bring herself to ruin the letter however, so she folded it neatly and placed it back into its envelope to show her parents over supper. She had to hand it to whichever classmate created the letter though - it was well crafted (almost too elaborate for one of her classmates to accomplish, but she pushed that thought aside) and she had wanted to believe it was true despite the fact that there was obviously no such thing as magic.

How wrong she was, for over potatoes and roast and after showing her parents the letter (which they all had a good laugh over), the doorbell rang. The Grangers shared a questioning look for they weren't expecting anyone. Dan Granger, Hermione's father, excused himself from the table to answer the door. Ellie Granger, Hermione's mother, and Hermione craned their necks from the dining table to see who was behind the door.

Hermione remembered first seeing a pointy, wide-brimmed hat of jet black and another of an emerald green when the door opened. The next she noticed were their garb: the man had a midnight blue cloak with stars and crescent moons that seemed to sparkle as the fabric shifted while the lady wore velveteen green robes. The man was old, his snowy white beard spilling over the front of his shirt and he had half-moon spectacles perched atop his sharp nose. Behind them she could see twinkling blue eyes. The lady looked severe, her chin at a sharp angle and her hair in a tight bun beneath her hat, yet her eyes were gentle as she looked past her father and straight into her.

"Good evening, Mr. Granger. I know our visit came at a surprise but we hope we are not intruding. I am Albus Dumbledore and this is Professor McGonagall. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and we'd like to speak to you about your very special daughter, Hermione." The man, Albus Dumbledore, said in a soft voice. Hermione heard herself gasp as his words drifted to her ears. The man looked at her and gave her a smile, and Hermione knew her life would be forever changed.

"Mum? Mum? Are you there?" James waved a hand in front of his mother's face and broke her out of her thoughts.

Hermione pulled herself back from her memories and concentrated on her son. This tall, gangly, ten year old (sorry, ten- _and-three-quarter year old_ ) who was the spitting image of her aside from his hair and whom she loved more than her own life would have never been born to the world if she had not received that letter. And now, looking at the parchment in her hands which displayed his name, it was his turn.

She flashed her son the biggest smile she could muster and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. "I am so proud of you! I knew you would get your letter!" She laughed as James tried to wiggle from her hug exclaiming his need to breathe.

"I am so excited! I can't wait to learn more magic! I wonder what House I'll be sorted in… When can we get my school robes? And my wand? What kind of pet should we get? Maybe an owl? When are we going to.. to... what is that place called again?" He asked in one breath as he was released from the hug. Leave it to her son to have so many question, Hermione thought. She placed both hands on his shoulders and bent down to look at him.

"'That place' is called Diagon Alley and it is in the magical district of London. We can go there this weekend IF you finish all your homework and readings. Speaking of homework, shouldn't you be doing yours right now?" She said sternly. She tried not to smile as her son immediately groaned.

"But Mum! I won't need to go to a… Muggle school after this year! My Muggle homework won't matter!" He protested, testing out the new term he had recently learned.

Hermione gasped and sprang from her chair, looking down at her son. "Daniel James! No son of mine will say such ridiculous things! You are still in a Muggle school so you will do your Muggle homework until you are done with said school. In fact, you will do ALL your homework, Muggle or not. Is that understood?" She chastised.

James pouted and hung his head. "Yes, Mother," he conceded.

Hermione scoffed and bent down, pulling him into another hug. "Why don't you run along and do some of your readings now? That way you'll have less to do for the weekend."

James immediately perked up and gave his mum a dazzling smile. "That is a great idea! I'll do that now. Maybe I can finish The Outsiders today. Thanks Mum!" He gave her a peck on the cheek and ran out of her study room in the same manner that he came in.

As James left so did all the energy in the room and Hermione sank back down into her chair. She removed her reading glasses and rubbed her face. There was no stopping it now. She knew, from the moment he unknowingly levitated a glass from the top of their kitchen cupboards last summer, that she could no longer hide her history from her boy. She tried so hard to shield him from it all and had grown hopeful that perhaps he would be able to lead a Muggle life when he showed no signs of being magical during his first nine years. But, as fate would have it, the magic that coursed through his veins was simply too powerful.

Hermione sighed and flicked a switch disguised as an embossed feather at the side of her desk. A hidden compartment popped open and inside there laid a slender piece of wood, about ten inches long, and a picture frame. The wooden object was light brown in colour with intricate carvings on the hilt and narrowed at the end. It was a wand; _her_ wand. It was an item she hid for years following the birth of her son and went unused until James, nine years later, revealed his own magic.

She traced a finger down her wand until her hand grazed the side of the picture frame. It was a simple frame, silver in colour, displaying one unmoving picture captured when times were still so simple. She was given a roll camera by her parents the Christmas of her first year at Hogwarts which she brought back to school. All the non-Muggleborns of her House were fascinated by the contraption and insisted they had a turn with the camera. She obliged, and one of them captured a picture of her with her best friend seated together on the common room couch by the fire.

Hermione picked up the frame and beheld the picture. She looked at the smiling figures drowning in their oversized robes. They were so young, so innocent. Who knew that these two eleven year olds would grow up to witness and partake in terrible and great things?

She placed the picture frame back into the compartment and grabbed her wand. There was no use keeping it locked away when James was now aware of her magic. As his mother, it was her duty to prepare him as best as she could for whatever future has in store. And if this meant introducing him to the world she ran away from, then so be it.

But Hermione couldn't bring herself to tell him the full story just yet. And so, with one last look at the picture frame, she waved her wand and casted a strong _Colloportus_. The compartment went back to its hiding place and locked, taking with it the reason she left everything behind eleven years ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Evanesco** ( _transfiguration_ )  
a spell used to vanish an object or person "into non-being, which is to say, everything"

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

James could not contain his excitement. _Today was the day_. Their plans to go to Diagon Alley on the weekend after he received his letter fell through when he was bombarded with school work. It was June then, and all his teachers were trying to get last minute evaluations before final exams. And then the examinations kicked in and of course his mum made him study for _those_. He had just finished his last exam yesterday (it was Maths, and he performed those long divisions effortlessly), so now he was finally done! It was already mid-July and he had been driving his mum crazy with endless questions about Diagon Alley as he anticipated their trip.

"Mum! I'm almost done getting ready! Are you?!" James yelled from his bedroom as he quickly glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing his favourite pair of slim fit black jeans, a blue and white striped t-shirt, and a Levi's denim jacket. He combed a hand through his unruly black hair and wrinkled his nose when it would not stay in place. Typical. He grabbed a pair of grey hightop Converse from the floor as Hermione walked through the open door.

"There's no need to yell James, I'm right here." Hermione said as she stood behind her son and grinned at him through the mirror. Her once bushy hair had been tamed into gentler curls which hung right below her shoulders. Perched on her nose was a pair of tortoise shell glasses, a prerequisite for and a side-effect of pouring over tomes daily. "Look at that - it seems like we're matching!" She exclaimed and winked at James. He giggled and nodded, seeing that she was wearing practically the same thing as he save for crisp white skinny jeans and an added crossbody bag to carry her wand and wallet. She rolled the sleeves of her denim jacket to her elbows and placed her hands on his shoulders.

Hermione had been preparing herself over the last few days for this trip. She knew exactly how much James wanted to be part of the magical world after discovering his talents and she would be damned if she stopped him. She knew there would be consequences for her but one look into his eyes had sold her. His happiness was worth more than her history with magic and she simply refused to be the one to hold him back.

She crouched down and looked at him, her chocolate brown eyes meeting his. She brushed his hair from his eyes and placed a smooth hand on his cheek. "Baby, before we go, I want to remind you of what we talked about before. It… it was my choice to leave Hogwarts before graduating. There are… people that want to look for me. Not to hurt me! But to simply find me. But love, I don't think I want to be found."

James held the gaze of his mother. He had noticed a change in her this past year after he found out he, or rather, _they_ were magical. For his entire life leading up to last summer, he had never heard her utter a single spell or do anything magical. Heck, his mum was the smartest person he knew! She helped him in his Maths and Chemistry (he pretty much had the entire periodic table memorized) and all his other subjects that he could very well say she was the most _scientific_ and _factual_ person in his universe. Magical spells, brewing potions, wizarding schools and the likes simply do not make up the picture that was his Mum.

But that image was changed last summer (almost exactly a year from now) when he accidentally floated a glass out of the cupboard right on top of his head. He gasped as he felt this sort of _connection_ between him and the glass sever. It started to fall on top of him. His mum was in the room having noticed the little bit of magic he displayed (though he didn't know that what he did was _magic_ then) and was able to prevent the disaster by using her own. She gasped and yelled the words _Arresto Momentum_ and the glass stopped in midair, five inches above his head. James remembered how his eyes bugged from their sockets as he stepped away from the path of the falling object and looked at his mum, then back to the glass still in the air, and back to his mum again. He remembered swiping a hand furiously on either side of the glass to check for any strings before shakily grabbing it out of air and turning to look at his mother.

 _July 1st 2008_

" _Mum… what just happened?" He asked frightened. She looked at him and exclaimed his name before rushing over to give him a fierce hug._

" _Baby, I think… I think I need to tell you where I came from and what I… no, we can do." She stammered out. That was the most distraught he had ever seen her. He nodded his head and fell further into her embrace as they both sank to the kitchen floor. There and then she told him about how she was actually a witch and how she went to school in this place called "Hogswart" (he later learned the proper pronunciation). She told him stories about her two closest friends and some of the mischief they've caused. She said that she had to leave Hogwarts and the wizarding world for reasons unsaid before her seventh year ended. He was born before she turned eighteen and by then she was living as a Muggle (a non-magic folk, she explained) in central London. And so he was raised a Muggle, and she thought that he would be a Muggle for she herself was a Muggleborn and for years he never showed an inkling to magic. She all but gave up on her magic until today when his own magic surfaced._

" _But Mum, if you were a Muggleborn then why do I have magic? Is it… is it because of my father?" He asked her. She was silent for a minute before slowly nodding her head._

" _Your father was one of the best and most powerful men I knew. He… he was the only man I have ever loved. It would only make sense that you would have magic in your veins." She replied softly, a sad smile on her face._

" _Mum… what happened to him?" He asked in a meek voice. His mother never forbade him from asking about his father, but he never felt comfortable doing so._

 _Her grip around his shoulders tightened as she brought him closer to her chest. "I'm sorry James but… I honestly don't know. I left all of… that behind. Just know that your father was an amazing man. He helped so many people and was, is, the bravest person I knew." She replied with a broken voice._

 _James nodded his head for he understood. His mum left her past behind when she was seventeen. He had a feeling that it was because she was pregnant with him but it was never explicitly said and he never dared to ask, until now._

" _Mum… why did you leave?" He asked in a whisper. He could feel her arms stiffen around him as Hermione considered his question. She could choose not to answer, but that would be unfair. He deserved to know her past._

" _It was to protect you, baby. Your father and I… we were_ never _meant to be, but I loved him with all my heart even though he only saw me as a friend. He… he was in love with another person. I didn't want to put you through that. I didn't want to put_ him _through that. He faced so much when he was growing up that I didn't want to get in the way of his happiness. And so… I… I left. I hid. I thought it best to raise you on my own away from all of that mess." Hermione explained. James could feel her crying by now and he turned around to wipe away her tears. He did not fully understand what she had said but he was thankful that she did say something._

 _James whispered a question he had been holding on to for years. "Mum… what's his name?"_

 _Hermione looked at his chocolate brown eyes that were so much like her own. She brushed away a strand of his jet black hair and her thumb moved to caress his cheek. Hermione opened her mouth and whispered a name she hadn't uttered in years. "Harry. His name is Harry."_

James brought a hand up to hold his mother's hand resting on his cheek. He gave her a dazzling smile and nodded his head. "I remember, Mum. I won't draw _too_ much attention on us. You don't have to be found until you want to be found. I love you for letting me learn about magic even though… even though it is difficult for you."

Hermione felt tears stinging the corner of her eyes. How did she get so lucky to have such an understanding and loving child? She enveloped him in a hug and held onto him tightly.

"Okay Mum! That's enough! The day is flying by and we've got A LOT of shopping to do!" He said while trying to wiggle out of her hug.

Hermione laughed as she let go of her son. He'd never been so excited to go shopping with her before! She stood tall and looked down at James, seeing his mouth curled in a cheeky grin as he looked at her with sparkling eyes. At that moment, she knew that she could do this. She would face the magical world again, and all the people in it if necessary, as long as it would bring about the same happiness she could see exuding from her son.

"Okay then, let's go!"

* * *

James was amazed that Magical London was literally _all_ around London. He initially thought that it was a smaller district of London but his eyes were opened by his mum as they walked from their brick townhouse on Farm Street in Mayfair towards London's West End.

"The biggest wizard shopping district in London is Diagon Alley, but that doesn't stop witches and wizards to set up shop outside of the Alley," Hermione explained. "There's a lot of magical folk that live outside of magical communities in Muggle neighbourhoods so it only makes sense to do so. Take a look over there for instance," she said, pointing across the street to a flat-iron building whose ground floor was a bustling grocery store. There were fruit stands set up on the sidewalk in front of the store and James could see pineapples, mangoes, and peaches on display with people milling about. "You have to cross your eyes a little bit since there's a disillusionment charm, but you'll see that it's not such an ordinary grocery store. They sell magical things too."

James tried to do as his mum instructed. He concentrated on the store and crossed his eyes and _wow_! For a moment the pineapples looked vaguely like owls! And the mangoes and peaches transformed into frogs and turtles! An elderly gentleman attended to the stall of animals with a purple cloak over his shoulders. He kept himself cool under the July summer sun with his wand blowing fresh air onto his face. James gaped at the scene before he lost concentration and the picture transformed back to a normal grocery store.

"Did I just see… were those really _owls_?" He asked in disbelief.

Hermione only giggled and responded with a nod. "Seeing these things will be easier once you're exposed to more magic, love."

James nodded and bit his lip. He glanced at the cheerey face of his mum and asked a question that had been burning in his mind since they left his house and literally ran into a young witch and wizard on a Saturday brunch date.

"Mum… since Magical London is all around us, how… how exactly were you hiding from magic then?" He inquired.

Hermione's step didn't falter as she looked over at James. She had been expecting this question for she knew just how observant and inquisitive her son was.

She smiled at James and replied, "It's called hiding in plain sight."

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for making it to chapter 2! This is a little story that has been brewing in my head for a while now, and so I decided to finally put pen to paper and write it. I already have a couple of chapters finished and plan to update at least every two weeks. I'm excited to finally be able to publish this and I hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Alis volat propriis** ( _motto_ )  
She flies with her own wings

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

James could not believe that it took him and his mum only _thirty_ minutes to walk from their townhouse to the entrance of Diagon Alley. In fact, he knew exactly where they were for his school bus would drive down the opposite road every morning to take him to school. He couldn't remember ever sparing more than a glance at this direction though since there's only a very narrow alley with three doors. A sign reading "The Leaky Cauldron" hang precariously on its last nail atop the middle door on a wooden post.

James glanced at Hermione before looking back at the door. It looked very, very ordinary. He had expected the entrance to Diagon Alley to be more, well, _magical_. This just looked like an entrance to any old pub (emphasis on the _old_ ). The shops on either side were unremarkable too, one being a bookshop and the other a record store.

"Mum, are you _sure_ we're in the right place?" He asked.

Hermione gave a soft laugh and looked at James. She couldn't wait to see his reaction. She put an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the door. "I'm very sure, James. Let's go."

Hermione grasped the large bronze handle and pulled the door of The Leaky Cauldron open. There were a handful of patrons already inside enjoying what looked to be a full English breakfast. The pub was sparsely lit with only the sun filtering through the windows and candles on each table providing light. Still it was warm and inviting and cozy and Hermione felt a strange tightening in her chest as she saw the familiar scene. Despite all these years, The Leaky Cauldron had not changed.

"Hullo. How may I help you madam and sir? Would you care for a table?" The barkeep behind the counter asked politely as he polished his silverware. He looked at Hermione carefully. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed it was not Tom the owner who greeted them.

"No, thank you. We are just passing through to get this one some school supplies." Hermione replied with a smile, nodding her head towards James.

The barkeep nodded in understanding and raised a hand to point to the back of the pub. "Feel free to head along then. It's the perfect day for school shopping! Might I interest you to come back for lunch later on? We're serving shepherd's pie and I bet I can reserve the best table in the house for you two! Your drinks are on me!" He said with a devilish grin. He's not completely daft, oh no. He noticed her right away when she entered with the boy. He was well acquainted with all the beautiful witches this part of town and yet he had never seen her before. That alone spiked his interest. One look on her left hand told him that she was neither engaged nor married (not that _that_ would stop him anyway) and since she said she was here to school shop for the boy, there would be no son (or whatever he was) for nine months! She would be lonely, and he was more than willing to keep her company.

James glared from his mother's side. It did not go unnoticed to the almost-eleven-year-old-boy that this man was looking at his mum funny. He didn't appreciate how this stranger's eyes lingered and scanned his mum from head to toe. "No, thank you sir. We will _not_ be coming back here for lunch." He replied politely but sternly.

Without waiting for a reply, James tugged on Hermione's hand and led her to the direction the buffoon behind the bar had pointed to. Hermione's body shook with silent laughter at the exchange but she knew she still had discipline her son. "James! That was not necessary. He was only being nice to us." She whispered as they made their way down the hallway to the back of the pub.

"Mum, he was looking at you all weird. Like you're a piece of pie. I didn't like it." James stubbornly replied.

Hermione shook her head and dropped the subject. Now's not the time to talk about this and so she'll shelve the conversation for later. What better timing since through the door at the very end of the hallway, Hermione and James were brought to the walled courtyard. The only thing in the courtyard was a large dustbin pushed against red bricks.

She grinned and positioned James to stand facing the wall. He looked at her curiously as she reached into her bag to pull out her wand. With a smile on her face, Hermione walked up to the dustbin and laid her wand on the brick directly on top of the lid.

"Three up, and two across," James heard her mumble. He watched as she traced her wand three bricks up and two bricks left from where she began. She looked at him as she tapped her wand three times. Tap, tap, tap.

James gasped as the red bricks started rearranging themselves. The bricks made way for a small hole, then larger, and larger until the wall enclosing the courtyard was completely gone. James couldn't believe his eyes.

There, behind his mum, was a bustling street. The 10am sun shone down on the multi-coloured storefronts as witches and wizards did their morning shop. He did not know what to look at first. There on the left looked to be a bookstore with a wooden sign out front saying "Used first-year books at half off!" The sign was _literally_ saying that, a slit on its surface allowing it to talk. The street was packed with wizards and witches of all ages. He could see a couple of rowdy young children running from one store to another: first the chocolate store, then to the joke shop, then to the owl emporium before being corralled by their parents with a simple flick of the wand. He overheard a teenage girl telling her friend that she's getting new school robes enchanted at Madam Malkin's to be fire proof, stain proof, poison proof, _and_ odour proof for her Potions class ("I _can't_ have another accident during Potions! I nearly burned my clothes off last time!" he heard her say). He caught a glimpse of a group of teenage boys peering into a shop window at what looked to be a broom. And there at the centre of the street on the opposite end from where he and Hermione were standing was an alabaster white building with huge Roman-esque columns made entirely of marble. The street pulsed with life as the magical folk crossed off items from their shopping lists.

Hermione looked tenderly at her son. His mouth was agape and his eyes were opened wide as he tried to take it all in. She could see the wonder in his eyes and knew that this would be an unforgettable experience. She walked next to James and grabbed his hand bringing him out of his stupor.

"Love, welcome to Diagon Alley."

* * *

Hermione and James joined the crowds of people as the general flow of the street slowly led them to the large white building. James' head moved from left to right taking note of all the shops they passed.

"Oh my god mum can we please visit the joke shop before we leave? And the ice cream store and sweets shop? I wonder if they sell red vines! Is that a _broom_ store? Do they just sell cleaning products? And wow - _there are so many people_!" James exclaimed all in one breath.

Hermione laughed at his questions and dragged him closer to her to avoid colliding into a trolley of baked goods. "Yes. Yes and yes. I don't think they sell red vines. Yes that is a broom store and _no_ , they do not have cleaning products. It's the summer holidays so there are a lot of first years here to do their shopping and older students as well. It's good that we came early." She answered in sequence. "But we must get your school supplies first, alright?"

James nodded vigorously. "Thanks mum! Maybe I can buy some _wizards_ _sweets_! I brought some of my chores money with me. Do you think fifty pounds would be enough?"

"Pocket your money, love. These shops won't take Muggle money."

"But then how are we to pay for our items?" James inquired, putting his bills back into his pocket. He noticed that they've now reached the end of the street and stood on the steps of the grand multi-storied building. All of the other shops in Diagon Alley looked so small compared to this one.

Hermione gestured ahead of them to the large wooden doors propped open by magic which led inside the building. "This is Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank. It's one of the safest places in the world to store your valuables. They've only ever had two break-ins," she said. James noticed that she almost had a wistful look in her eyes. "When I… left, I moved all of my money from my old vault to multiple new ones under different names. They're harder to keep track of that way, though Gringotts is already very good at keeping secrets."

Hermione produced a key from the depths of her bag and showed it to James. James nodded and hand-in-hand they entered the great hall of Gringotts.

He immediately noticed the creatures behind the high counters lining the hall. It was hard not to, for James had never seen anything like them before outside of the drawings in his fantasy novels. The creatures had long, pointy ears protruding from their round head. James noted that everything about their visage was rather long (ears, nose, hair, even chin!) yet they had a very short stature. He could see that they were no taller than about three feet and they sat on very high chairs behind the counters to look down on the customers. They worked methodically and queues of people conducting business were quickly attended to.

"Don't be afraid, James. These are goblins. They manage Gringotts and are one of the smartest creatures on the planet," Hermione explained in a whisper as she led him to the front of the counter. James gulped as the goblin servicing them swept his cat-like eyes over the pair.

"How may I help you?" The goblin, whose name was Ragnok according to the plaque on the counter, asked them. James thought that his voice was strangely pleasant for someone with such a stern demeanour.

"I'd like to make a withdrawal, please." Hermione said clearly, sliding the golden key towards the goblin.

Ragnok grasped the key with his long fingers and looked at the number carved on its side. Ah, he knew she looked familiar. He gave her a levelled gaze before looking at the little boy on her side. 'And that must be her son,' Ragnok thought. 'How very, _very_ curious.'

"Very well." He replied, sliding the key back to Hermione. "Follow me please," Ragnok said. He slid the Closed sign into its place and hopped from behind the counter and led them out of the hall after Hermione had pocketed the key. The two followed the goblin to stand in line along what looked to be train tracks. James watched as the three witches in front of them, one around his age, boarded a cart with their goblin and zoomed down the tracks. Their turn came as a cart rolled to a stop in front of them and they were instructed by Ragnok to get on.

"Hold on tight, love." Hermione told James. He had barely grasped the side of the cart when it sped from underneath him and into the dark underground tunnels of Gringotts. He couldn't stop a yelp from escaping his throat. It was too dark that he couldn't see where they were going but he could feel his body being jerked from side to side and up and down as the cart followed the twisted turns of the tracks. Only his mother's calm hand on his back ensured him that everything was fine.

After what seemed like forever, the cart finally stopped. Ragnok stepped out and the lanterns on the platform sprang to life, illuminating behind him a metal door that read "Vault 1244". He offered his hand to Hermione to help her out of the cart before helping hoist James out as well.

"Key, please." Ragnok said and Hermione handed him the key. Ragnok walked to the metal door and waved a hand over a smooth panel. A keyhole emerged from the metal and Ragnok inserted the key and twisted. He ran a finger down the middle of the door and James vaguely heard the sound of clicks as the intricate locks on the door were dismantled. The metal heaved and breathed and swung open to reveal piles of bronze, silver, and gold coins inside.

James gasped at what he saw and his mum walked inside the vault to fill a pouch with the coins. She closed the pouch tightly before putting it in her bag. She walked out of the vault and nodded to Ragnok, who waved a hand making the vault close and the locks click in place. He removed the key from its socket and handed it back to Hermione before leading them back to the cart.

James knew what to expect so he held on tightly as soon as he was sat. The ride back to the surface didn't feel nearly as long this time and the two thanked Ragnok for his service before exiting Gringotts.

As soon as they were outside, James turned to his mum and exclaimed, "That was so cool! How far were we underground? Where did you get all those coins from? WOW!"

"I'm not sure of the exact distance, but it must be at least a couple of kilometres underground. As for the coins… I was very careful with my allowance during school. When I was fourteen I learned that there's a wizard equivalent to the stock exchange though it's not nearly as big or complicated as the Muggle stock exchange. I asked one of my professors for help and after a lot of research, I learned how to invest." Hermione explained with a smile.

James looked at her wonder. His mother never stopped surprising him. "Mum, you're _really_ great. Do you know that?" He said cheekily. Hermione laughed before leading him down the stairs of Gringotts and back into the crowds of Diagon Alley.

"Let's go then. We've got items to knock off your list! First, you'll need a wand."

James was led by Hermione to a small shabby-looking shop. Its columns on either side of the large bay window were grey with peeling paint. Through the window he could see a solitary wand in a dusty velvet box on display. The sign on top of the window in faded gold letters read "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.".

Hermione reached into her purse and counted seven of the gold coins. She gave them to James and said, "Here are seven galleons to pay for your wand. You go on in, love, and I'll wait for you out here."

James pocketed the coins and gave Hermione a hug. "I'll be right back - don't miss me too much!" James said after he gave her a kiss on the cheek. Hermione smiled and watched her son enter the store to find his wand.

* * *

A small bell chimed when James pushed open the door to Ollivander's. It was cramped inside, and everywhere he looked all along the walls of the shop were boxes of wands stacked high underneath a thin layer of dust. The only pieces of furniture inside the shop were a rickety old chair behind an even older desk. On the desk laid an assortment of odd knick-knacks like candy wrappers, notes, a broken radio, an assortment of quills and ink, and a tall vase with a lone goldfish swimming inside.

A man's head peaked from behind the rows of wands further into the shop. James could see the silhouette of a skinny man, rather short, with untamed white hair. As the man walked into the light, James could see he was old and frail-looking, though his eyes were a vibrant shade of silver.

Ollivander looked at the boy in front of him. 'He's a spitting image of his mother,' he thought as he held the gaze of the boy. James gulped and ran a hand through his hair, not wanting to break eye-contact with this strange man. Ollivander's mouth twitched to the side, 'And yet… I could see his father in him.'

"Welcome to Ollivander's, Mr. Daniel James Watson. How may I help you?" Ollivander finally said. James brows crinkled as he questioned how this man knew his name.

"I'm here to buy a wand, sir. But… how do you know my name?" James inquired. James liked his name; he thought it was noble that his mum named him after his grandfathers and gave him the surname of his maternal grandmother's. He was told that his mum also changed her last name not soon after he was born from Granger to Watson so that there would be no confusion over their little family. Though Daniel was _technically_ his first name, he preferred to be called by James and couldn't remember the last time he was called Daniel (unless you count his mum scolding him and using his full name). However, _how_ does this stranger know his name?

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Watson. And worry not on the _how_. I remember every single wand I've ever sold and it seemed like only yesterday when your mother and father were here buying their wands. How can you expect me to not recognize their child?" Ollivander replied, walking closer to James.

James gasped and his head jerked upwards to look at Ollivander at the mention of his father. "You knew my father? He bought his wand here? What was he like?" James asked the man. It's not every day he would come across someone who shared history with his father.

Ollivander walked to a stack of wands and paused, his fingers skimming over the boxes before he pulled one out from its place. He opened the box and picked up the wand inside which was of a pale brown colour. "I was lucky to have known your father," Ollivander answered simply. James noticed the man's silver eyes soften before he presented the wand to James. "Dogwood, unicorn hair, 12 inches. Give it a wave."

James took the wand silently. Not knowing what else to do, he gave the wand a quick flick and a loud bang sounded and smoke erupted from the tip. James' eyes widened and Ollivander quickly pried the wand from James' hand and replaced it in the box.

"Mmm, definitely not. Try this one instead. Chestnut, dragon heartstring, 10 inches." Ollivander handed a different wand to James, this one more supple than the dogwood. James swished the wand and a waterfall of icy cold water sprouted from the end and soaked the front of Ollivander's robes.

James apologized profusely but the wand was simply plucked from his fingers and replaced by another. For a good few minutes, James tried wands of different make, cores, and lengths as instructed by Ollivander.

After the seventh wand (ash, unicorn hair, 12.5 inches) caused the desk in the room to rattle, Ollivander paused and took a good look at the young boy. The eyes, the smile; those were clearly his mother's. In them he could see the determination to find the right wand and Ollivander was reminded of young Hermione Granger so eager to get her own wand (vine, dragon heartstring, 10 ¾ inches) to prove to all that she belonged in their world. Ollivander had found it very sad that she chose to leave it all behind, though looking at the boy in front of him, Ollivander could see why she did.

A thought came to Ollivander and he hurried to the back of the shop and gently grabbed a box from his workstation. He paused for a moment, thinking it through, before nodding his head and heading back to stand in front of James. He carefully lifted the lid and showed the boy its contents.

There against the velvet cushion was a wand of pale red colour. What's different about this one was that the handle was made of two separate pieces of wood that had been intertwined and met at a common point before extending into a solid wand. James reached in and picked up the wand carefully, studying it. It was more firm than the other wands he'd tried but this was something he liked for he felt stronger and more secure with it in his hand. He held the wand up to his face and a warm glow surrounded his body. He gasped and looked at Ollivander questioningly.

Ollivander nodded in approval. "Redwood, 10 ¾ inches, firm, and with the core of a hippogriff wingfeather. I should've known."

James was transfixed by the wand in his hand and he moved his hand in different patterns to test its weight. "What do you mean by that, sir?"

Ollivander walked to the desk and sat on the rickety old chair. He crossed his hands on the surface atop the notes and fixed James a levelled look. "Redwood trees signify forever since they can live for thousands of years. The oldest trees in the world are redwoods. The wand you hold is special for it was made from two redwood trees which were planted and grown so close to one another that over the years they fused into one. As for the core, hippogriffs are half horse, half eagle and are one of the most fiercely loyal creatures. Only one hippogriff egg is hatched per mated couple that the mother and father would go through great lengths to protect their offspring. Taming these hippogriffs is very difficult so it is very rare to find one willing to give you a feather for a wand. I was lucky when I obtained the wingfeather residing in _your_ wand."

"Then… does this mean that this wand has picked me, sir?" James asked in astonishment.

"Yes, James. You are that wand's and that wand is yours now. Treat it well."

* * *

Hermione glanced through the window display and saw her son grasping his new wand. She let out a breath of relief that she had been holding onto since he entered the store. Half of her was happy that he had found a wand, yet half of her was absolutely terrified of what the future had in store. She couldn't help but question herself. Was she doing the right thing? Would it have been easier if she continued to hide him away? Hide herself away? What was going to happen now that his magic had surfaced? All throughout her life, Hermione learned to seek the answers to her questions. That's why she was so drawn to books - she's a naturally inquisitive girl and books always had answers. But now, the answers she's looking for could not be found in any book.

Steeling herself, Hermione grasped the door handle and pushed it open. The two occupants turned to look at her. The one with shining brown eyes quickly ran to her side and gave her a hug around the waist. She heard him exclaim and tell her that he now has a wand. The other occupant behind the desk simply looked at her with warmth. She broke free from his silvery gaze before crouching down to look at James. "Love, I need to speak to Mr. Ollivander for a second. Why don't you run along and check out the joke shop across the street and we can meet outside in fifteen minutes?" Hermione slipped a galleon into his palm as he nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Yes! Thanks mum! And thank you for helping me find a wand, Mr. Ollivander!" James exclaimed before giving his mother a loud smacking kiss on the cheek and issuing a nod to the older man. With one last wave, he ran outside through the chiming door.

"He's beautiful, Ms. Granger," Hermione heard. She looked back to the desk to see Garrick Ollivander rising from his chair. He walked to the front of the desk and Hermione could not contain herself any longer. She ran to the older man and was enveloped in a tight hug.

Hermione could not have pulled her disappearing act eleven years ago without the help of a couple of friends, one of them being the man in front of her. There was a celebration at Hogwarts the night when she left and all the people who had a hand in The Defeat were present. While everyone else was in the Great Hall listening to a speech by Professor Dumbledore, Garrick Ollivander chose to talk a walk through the castle grounds instead.

 _Saturday, May 9th 1998, 10:30pm_

 _Nighttime had fallen and the grounds were empty. Ollivander treasured the silence as he walked the path to the lake to watch the stars. As he got nearer to the water, Ollivander could see a figure doubled over by the edge. It was a small and slender figure; her long, curly hair tumbling down her back as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the lake._

 _Ollivander walked to the figure's direction when he recognized that it was Hermione Granger. He alerted her of his presence by calling out her name before tenderly holding her hair back as her body convulsed once again._

" _My dear girl, let's go inside and take you to Madam Pomfrey. You're as sick as a newborn pup and I bet she has the right potion to perk you back up. Do you want me to call Mr. Potter for you?" Ollivander said, running a frail hand up and down her back in a soothing gesture._

 _Hermione's head whipped up and Ollivander finally noticed her tear-stained face. She pushed his hand away and stumbled, falling onto her backside by the lake's edge. Her body was wracked with sobs as she wrapped her cloak tight around her body. She shook her head furiously. "No! You can't. You can't tell Harry, or Ron, or anybody! No… especially not Harry." She whimpered._

 _Ollivander was at a loss for word as he watched the broken girl sob on the ground. He'd seen Ms. Granger less than ten times in the past seven years and she had always left a very strong impression on him. In fact, with the events of the past few months in mind, Mr. Ollivander would consider Hermione Granger as one of the toughest, strongest witches the world had ever known. But now, looking at this girl who looked so lost and so_ broken _, Ollivander didn't know what to think._

 _He crouched down and enveloped her in a hug. The girl meekly returned his action and he felt her body shake as she tried to breathe through the tears. "Ms. Granger… I promise not to tell anybody of this. But dear girl, tell me how I can help you." Ollivander said, almost pleading._

 _Hermione paused before she raised her head. Tear-stained, tired brown eyes met concerned silver orbs. "Do you really mean that, Mr. Ollivander? You will help me?" Hermione asked in a whisper._

 _Ollivander looked at the girl in front of him. Her eyes were so inquisitive, so smart, so much more mature than they have the right to be at seventeen and he felt the sheer weight of her question. Meeting her eyes, Ollivander nodded his affirmation. "Yes, Ms. Granger. I will help you."_

 _Hermione considered his response before breaking into a teary smile. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."_

Garrick Ollivander and one other were made secret keepers of Hermione Jane Granger. He and another trusted witch casted a modified _Evanesco_ charm on Hermione that night by the lake which hid Hermione to all whom she wanted to hide from. Garrick never questioned her reason for this, and it wasn't until three months later when he received an owl from one "Jane Watson" that he started to piece together the reason of her disappearance.

Enclosed in the envelope was a non-moving picture of a baby boy. The baby had a shock full head of dark black hair and chocolate brown eyes. Its small mouth was curved into a cute, gummy smile, and his arms were outstretched as if reaching for the photographer. The baby was tiny, adorable, and reminded Garrick of two very special people. He looked into the envelope hoping for a letter but found none. Flipping over the picture, he noticed a line of cursive writing on the back.

"Daniel James, August 1st 1998," The writing said. "Thank you for helping me keep my greatest secret safe. - H"

From then on, Garrick Ollivander would receive owls from Jane Watson every Christmas and every August 1st. The owls never had letters; only dated pictures of the growing boy. He had tried to send replies but the owls never failed to fly away immediately after delivering their package. Ollivander barely kept his shock hidden when the same boy he had seen growing up in photographs entered his shop.

"Oh, Hermione. It's great to finally see you after all these years." Garrick said, removing himself from the hug and looking at the woman with gentle eyes.

Hermione nodded, tears starting to sting the corner of her eyes. "I'm sorry for not writing more, but… but I couldn't… it was so hard…" She stammered, not knowing how to explain herself.

Ollivander nodded in understanding. "I know, dear girl. You need not explain yourself. I'm just glad to see that you're alive and well. I didn't know if I would ever see you again after that night," he said softly.

"Garrick… I deluded myself into thinking he can grow up Muggle. But now… now that he's discovered magic and had got himself a wand and he'll be going to Hogwarts in September... I'm afraid he'll hate me when he finds out what I've been keeping from him all these years." Hermione whispered, tears finally spilling.

Ollivander shook his head. He raised a hand and wiped away the tears that fell. " _Never_ , Hermione. He will never hate you. A blind man can see how much that boy loves you and you him. I may not know the whole reason why you left, but I know it was because of your love for him."

Hermione considered his words carefully. She had never breathed a word of the _why_ to anyone before. It was quite simple, really. James was conceived out of wedlock, on a night when two friends were feeling so lonely that they seeked solace in one another. It was supposed to be a no-strings-attached agreement; and it was, but not for Hermione.

For years she loved Harry Potter in silence. She watched him pine for other girls at school and risk his life with different dangers every year. Part of the reason she was so bookish at Hogwarts was because she wanted to help Harry the only way she knew how: through her knowledge and smarts. Harry was devastated when Ron left them in the Forest of Dean during their hunt for Horcruxes. The weight of the whole world were on his shoulders and one night, when the sky seemed to be crying and the winds howling around their tent, Harry Potter finally broke down. All of his insecurities and worries came out in tears. Words of self-doubt left his lips and Hermione did the one thing her muddled brain told her to do to make him stop: she kissed him. She poured every ounce of her feelings into that kiss. It was a kiss of reassurance, strength, friendship, and love. "We _need_ this, Harry," she had whispered, " _You_ need this." He was stunned at first, and when he started to question her, she shushed him again with a kiss until he started to return her actions.

As the kisses turned more fierce, her brain told her to stop but her heart could not bring herself to move away from Harry. His mouth and his hands weren't pushing her away either; in fact, they were only drawing her closer. Their bright eyes met in the darkness and through the windows of each other's soul, they could see warmth and assent. And so, Harry and Hermione lost themselves in one another.

She remembered waking up feeling so happy the morning after. Harry's arm was wrapped tightly around her with his chest to her bare back. She turned around and was met with his warm, green eyes and a grin beaming down at her.

Before anything could be said, however, they were interrupted by a moving light outside of their tent. Hurriedly putting on clothes and grabbing their wands, they emerged from the tent to find the doe patronus which led them to the Sword of Gryffindor. They were eventually reunited with Ron and the conversation about that night never took place - they were simply too busy trying to stay alive.

Exactly a week before The Defeat, Hermione had found herself crouching over a toilet, retching. She sat confused on the tiled floor, going over the meals she had had that day. Her eyes drifted to her watch which showed the date and her chocolate brown eyes widened in horror. When they had left to hunt for Horcruxes, Hermione had cast a charm on herself to keep her sterile so she wouldn't be experiencing her monthly periods. This charm, though, needed to be recast every night. She realized with dismay that she missed casting this charm when she was with Harry _that night_.

With shaky fingers, Hermione remembered grabbing her wand and casting _Infans Revelo_. Her wand tip glowed a bright light and she broke down in sobs. ' _Infans Revelo will reveal if the caster is with child if the wand glows bright upon casting,_ ' Hermione remembered reading from her Charms textbook. There was no denying it, Hermione Granger was with Harry Potter's child.

Hermione honestly wanted to tell Harry of _her_ , or rather, _their_ predicament but Lord Voldemort did not give her the chance. On that fateful day at the start of May, Death Eaters along with giants, dementors, and acromantulas stormed Hogwarts. Hermione and her friends spent countless hours fighting until she saw the _Priori Incantatem_ break and the killing curse bounce back to Voldemort killing him. She yelled and rushed to Harry's side from across the Great Hall and enveloped him in a hug. Soon, she felt Ron's arms around them and breathed a sigh of relief that he, too, was safe. Finally, after years of fighting, it was all over.

Hermione told herself she would tell Harry of their baby the day after The Defeat. But then she found him at the ruined Quidditch pitch with his lips locked with Ginny Weasley and their arms wrapped tight around one other.

Again, Hermione's heart shattered to an irreparable state. Harry was happy, and it wasn't with her. She knew telling him of their baby would cause turmoil in his relationship with Ginny. What more was that almost everyone of their friends expected Harry to _be_ with Ginny. How would they, and the rest of the wizarding world, feel when it was found out that Harry Potter had a baby with his _best friend_ Hermione Granger?

Hermione decided then and there she had to leave. No one can know of the child she was carrying. Harry deserved a life of happiness with the woman he loves, and she would be damned if she got in the way of his happiness. What more was that _her baby_ , whom she had grown to love so much in the little time she knew of its existence, deserved a normal life away from the prying eyes and whispered conspiracies. Her baby did not deserve to be viewed as Harry Potter's bastard child. For the two people she loved most in the world, Hermione chose to leave.

"Hermione… are you alright?" She heard Garrick whisper. Hermione's eyes refocused and settled on Ollivander's.

"Thank you, Garrick, for everything you have done for me." She said in a whisper. "Maybe one day I'll be able to tell you the whole reason why I left."

Ollivander smiled and drew the girl into a hug once more. "There's no need for that, Hermione. I am in full confidence that you did what you thought was necessary and right. I don't know what will happen now, but I do know you will handle whatever comes yours and James' way with the grace and strength you possess. You brought that child up well, my dear girl. He's as strong as his mum. You just need to believe in him."

* * *

Author's Note: Happy weekend! To be honest, I was not planning on updating today but I was just too excited to get this story out. Therefore, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review if you can! I promise that we'll see a certain _someone_ soon enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**salvator mundi** ( _noun_ )  
saviour of the world

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

He kept his baseball cap low over his eyes, not only to block out the glare from the afternoon sun but to also keep his face hidden from the throngs of people milling about the street. He avoided the bodies heading in all directions around him with the skill of a seasoned pro. This wasn't his first rodeo - he had learned not to be trampled on in Diagon Alley after the many years of visiting the street every summer before school.

He fixed his gaze at a gaggle of teenage boys crowding in front of a shop and headed in the same direction. In bolded script atop the large display window the sign read "Broomstix". His latest mission had left his broom a bit worse for wear and unfortunately he had run out of broomstick polish. Since he was already in London, he decided to stop by Diagon Alley to replenish his stock of broomstick care materials and maybe visit a few friends who were working in the surrounding shops.

Looking over the crowd again, he wished he had decided _not_ to go to Diagon Alley that afternoon. Not only was it a weekend, but it was also the summer holidays and the street was packed with kids of all ages and parents helping them shop. Already he'd noticed an older wizard eyeing him with wonder after recognizing his face and he quickly scurried along before the man could say anything. So much for being in disguise.

Really, Harry should have known better than to come here today but he didn't have a choice. He really needed that broomstick polish and he hardly gets a break between his missions to see friends. Might as well kill two birds with one stone and combine his chores with a little social interaction before he was whisked away to Merlin knows where.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a break. His latest mission took him to the Caribbeans for three weeks, and while many would think he had hit the work travel jackpot, ninety percent of his time was spent under the torturous sun tailing a deranged witch. The only good thing that came out of that mission was that they were able to stop a small cult of islanders from kidnapping tourists for their sadistic rituals and he, Harry Potter, actually got a tan. The one before that was spent in Northern Canada, at the northern tip of the territory of Nunavut. It was long days of no sunlight in -30 degree temperatures where his eyebrows frosted over and his own breath choked him because of the cold. The place nearly drove him mad. But a mission was a mission and he did his job well, finishing what he had to do in only two weeks when he was supposed to stay there for a month. He traced back from assignment to assignment until he remembered the Christmas he spent at the Weasley cottage two years ago. That was the last break he had until the one now.

The work of an Auror was hard, yes, but Harry couldn't imagine doing anything else. Fighting was what he was good at and it always brought him great satisfaction to put another no do-gooder witch or wizard in Azkaban.

As Harry walked towards Broomstix, he couldn't help but think back to that day, during what should have been his seventh year at Hogwarts, when he defeated Voldemort. That day would stay with him forever, he knew. He could still vividly remember the fire and rubble around him as bodies of innocents laid crumpled against the Hogwarts floor. The Battle of Hogwarts raged on and he could see his friends fighting Death Eaters and giants all around him. Voldemort casted the Killing Curse towards him while he yelled out an _Expelliarmus_ and their wands met, again, in _Priori Incantatem_. Unlike before, this one was short-lived as the Elder Wand refused to hurt its original owner. The Killing Curse rebounded and struck Voldemort, and the monster crumpled to the ground, dead. Without their master, the Death Eaters went into a panic and were quickly apprehended. Harry felt lucky, for a quick look around the hall showed him that his friends and family had all survived. He sank to the floor in relief before he was enveloped in a hug by his two best friends. Harry was no longer The Boy Who Lived but The Man Who Saved.

One would think Harry would have all cause of celebrations at his disposal, but he suffered a loss so unfathomable soon after The Defeat that it still hurt to think about today. As he entered Broomstix, Harry brushed the painful thought aside.

Funny how that loss was what brought him to the path of the Aurors. Being at Hogwarts without _her_ would have been too painful. He could not come back even if he had wanted to, for the halls would be haunted with the memories of her. He couldn't bear it. So even though he was graciously invited back to study by Professor Dumbledore for an eight year, Harry Potter had refused. Instead, he took up Shacklebolt's offer to join the Auror office under the command of Head Auror Winchester. He worked his way from the bottom up, gaining promotion after promotion until he was asked by Trenton Winchester to head his own specialized team of Aurors. The Gryphons, which the team had later been named, consisted of a select few of Aurors whose sole purpose was to stop the rise of another Dark Lord. They operated discreetly, quickly, and cleanly; gathering intel from the many spies the Ministry had in place worldwide and disposing of cults and covens harming the public. They traced leads of unimaginable objects with the powers to cause mass destruction and either disposed of them or hid them away deep in the vaults of the Ministry where they were kept under surveillance 24/7.

This past decade, Harry Potter gave his head and his heart to the Aurors.

Harry quickly found the broomstick polish he needed and paid the required amount of coins at the counter before exiting the busy shop. Still there were boys crowded at the front, ogling the hottest broom currently in the market, the Stormbreaker 360.

One boy in particular caught his attention, for this boy was wearing a denim jacket when all others had self-cooling cloaks. Even though more wizards have chosen to embrace Muggles and Muggle culture more openly, their ways of dress still continued to be quite traditional. 'Must be a Muggleborn,' Harry thought. This was reinforced when he heard the boy whispering in awe to himself, mumbling about how he never thought wizards would actually ride on _brooms_. "And this one can apparently go _one hundred and fifty miles per hour_ and has a concealment charm. What would people do with that?" He heard the boy whisper, eyes wide as saucers. Harry gave a little smile since he could very well remember the day Hagrid first took him to Diagon Alley and saw the Nimbus 2000 on display. He had the same reaction.

"James!"

Harry watched as the boy, James, tore his eyes from the broom and looked to his right further down the street. Harry followed his gaze to a woman standing by Flourish and Blotts. He couldn't see her very well since the sun was to her back, but he noticed that she was slender with dark brown hair and what looked to be an armload of books.

The boy, James, gave a grin and yelled, "Coming, mum!" Harry watched as the boy dashed towards his mother, nearly knocking over people on the sidewalk. The boy graciously took hold of some of the books before clutching his mother's hand. The pair turned and walked away.

Harry glanced back to the Stormbreaker 360 on the window. A little plaque on the side noted its abilities: speeds up to one hundred and fifty miles per hour (unnecessary for most rides), heating cushions (useful), handless steering (foolish), rain/snow/hail/sleet bouncing charm ( _very_ useful), and indeed, a concealment charm. If one had wanted to fly from London to northern Scotland and back in the middle of a winter storm within a day undetected, then this broom would be perfect. It's quite a strange use case indeed, but Harry _was_ an Auror. With that in mind, he turned around and reentered the shop. Perhaps it's time for a new broom.

* * *

The bell atop the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' front door was unlike any normal door bell. Instead of a pleasant little chime, the bell would, in total Weasley fashion, hurl insults towards the new visitor.

"Wanker! Knob! Scarhead!" The bell chimed. Harry snorted and joined the crowd inside the joke shop and looked around. There were Anti Gravity Hats stacked low from the ceiling (he'd noticed that they added a few new styles), shelves stocked full of Weather in a Bottles, Fanged Frisbees, boxes of Extendable Ears, and more; the shop held all of the brilliant inventions Fred and George had devised to cause headaches to parents everywhere.

Speaking of Fred and George, Harry could see them manning the tills to accommodate the busy afternoon. Even though the twins had expanded their empire and now have more than twenty locations of WWW worldwide, they still preferred to be in the thick of things, and one would often catch them giving recommendations on which item to use for their customer's next shenanigans.

Not wanting to interrupt but still wanting to speak to his friends, Harry grabbed some Tongue Twisting Toffees from the snack section before joining the queue. He waited a few minutes in line before being ushered to Fred's till.

"That'll be seven sickles, please!" Fred said, putting the Toffees in a bag marked with the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' logo.

"Here you go, mate." Harry replied, raising his head and finally meeting Fred's eyes. Fred gasped when he realized who his customer was.

"Well blimey! Where have you _been_ you bugger? Oi, George! Look who's here! Get Sam to man your till - we're going on a break!" Fred yelled. George looked over in confusion before seeing Harry's face. He yelped before breaking into a large grin. Calling on Sam, George left the till and the twins ushered Harry to their office atop the staircase.

"I hate to bother you two! It looks like you're having a busy day!" Harry said, his smile reaching from ear to ear.

"Nonsense, mate! We haven't seen you in _months_. The last letter we received from you was from _weeks_ ago! What you have been up to?!" George replied, ushering all three of them inside the office.

Settling himself on a couch, Harry removed his hat and ran a hand through his unruly black hair. He made a note to get a haircut before his next mission and regarded the twins with a grin.

"Do you see his tan? Looks to me like he's been somewhere hot… and I hope it was on a beach with a pretty little bird on your arm." Fred remarked slyly.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, Fred, but I was there for work. And I'm sorry I haven't written or seen you two in a while, work has me travelling a lot and it's been very busy these past few months."

The twins nodded their head in understanding. It didn't escape their notice that Harry gave a very general answer to the question. Typical Auror.

"Mum had been asking Ron about you. It's nearly driven him bonkers more than the new baby. Have you owled him recently?" George asked.

Harry broke into a grin as he recalled Ron's latest owl from a month ago. Ron and Luna have added a fifth to their growing Weasley brood, a little baby girl of strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes named Alexa Jane Weasley. Included with the letter was a picture of little baby Alexa surrounded by her siblings: twin older brothers Sebastian and Gabriel, both three years old and sporting matching mischievous grins; older brother William who's eight and the only blonde boy in the family; and last was Harry's godson, Nathaniel Ronald Weasley, who had just turned eleven. "I did, yeah. I had to offer him my biggest of congratulations since Luna had finally gotten her girl. I reckon Ron is jumping through the roofs right now. I also wrote to Nate for his birthday."

Fred snickered and shook his head. "More like Ron's wanting to rip his hair off. Apparently, baby Lexa isn't very easy to manage and you know how those boys are! Always so full of energy. By the way, the older kids are heading off to Hogwarts this September and mum is hosting a going away party for all of them. The whole lot of them would be at the cottage. Think you can come?"

Harry thought about the offer and knew he couldn't promise anything. He wanted to go but his work was unpredictable and he could not tell where he would be in a couple of months. "I'll try my hardest to be there, Fred," he said sincerely.

The twins nodded in understanding and believed Harry would really try his best. Not wanting to dwell on what would or wouldn't and just wanting to enjoy each other's company, George launched into a tale about Ron's latest mishap involving changing Lexa's nappy.

Patrons of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes were treated to riotous outbreaks of snorts and laughter and yells from the office above all throughout that afternoon.

* * *

After a couple of hours of catching up with the twins, Harry left the shop with his heart full and a smile on his face. He made a mental note to write to Ron, Ginny, and Molly that night once he'd left Diagon Alley. He only had one last stop in mind and walked into the cramped quarters of Ollivander's.

The doorbell chimed as another first year and her mother gave the seven galleons to Ollivander. Garrick nodded his head to the pair in thanks as they left the shop. Glancing to the door, Garrick was surprised to see the man standing inside.

There by the door was none other than Harry Potter. He would recognize that face anywhere, even with that ridiculous hat perched on his head. Garrick Ollivander shook his head in surprise before waving his wand to put the Closed sign on the door. 'What an exciting day this is,' he thought.

"Well, come in and have a seat, boy, no need to dawdle by the door. To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Potter?" Garrick chided before sitting himself on the chair behind the desk. With a wave of his wand, a chair was summoned to the other side. Harry grinned before walking up and taking a seat. "Do you want some tea? Biscuits?" Garrick asked while already _Accio_ -ing a teapot and some cups.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not call me "Mr. Potter"? It's just Harry." Harry said with a small laugh as he took the steaming teacup that was offered.

Garrick tsked and replied, "And how many times do I have to tell _you_ that you _are_ Mr. Potter and so I will call you as such?" Harry just laughed. "Anyway, what are you doing here, boy?"

"I was in London for the day and decided to visit some friends. I had just seen the twins before coming to you," Harry replied. "I was hoping to see if you've finished it?"

Garrick sat back on his chair and took a sip of tea. The _it_ that Harry was talking about was a wand made from one of Buckbeak's wingfeather which Harry himself had provided. Ollivander had been experimenting with new cores and could not find a hippogriff willing to give him a feather. He turned to the only person he knew who could help and Harry was more than happy to ask Buckbeak for a friend. Harry gave him the feather almost a year ago but it took Garrick a long time to find the right wood to encase the core. It was during his trip to the western Americas that he saw the pair of redwoods which had fused metres above the ground that he knew he had found the right one. "I finished the wand just yesterday, Mr. Potter, but I'm afraid it had already sold this morning to a young Mr. Watson."

Harry gasped in surprise. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed to not have seen it, but I'm glad it was able to find an owner so quickly."

Garrick nodded his head. He was happy, too. It's unusual that a wand, just a day after its creation, would find its wizard. His thought drifted to the many wands stacked high in his shop which had been coated with dust, their boxes unopened for many years.

"Tell me, Garrick. Do you believe that the boy was the right fit for the wand?" Harry asked, setting down his now empty teacup.

Garrick Ollivander regarded the man sat in front of him. He had grown into such a fine adult, a feat Ollivander had always found amazing given the trials and tribulations Harry Potter faced while growing up. He was no longer the skinny, knobby-kneed boy that entered his wand shop those many years ago. He was much taller now, lean and muscular, yet his eyes held the same warmth and his hair as unruly as ever. Behind those warm, green eyes, Ollivander could glimpse a sadness set deep within.

Garrick knew he was probably one of the few people who knew the true cause of that sadness. Well, everyone knew _the story_. Shortly after The Defeat, Miss Hermione Jane Granger, best friend, confidante, one of the smartest witches in history, and one third of the Golden Trio, had simply vanished. There were no notes (that the public was aware of), no reason, _nothing_. All her belongings aside from her wand were left neatly in her bedroom at Hogwarts. Her books, pictures, clothes… all were left as tidy as they were and nothing seemed amiss aside from their owner not being amongst them.

According to The Daily Prophet article which was widely circulated after Rita Skeeter caught wind of the disappearance, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley spent months looking for her. No tables were left unturned, imprisoned Death Eaters were questioned in case it was an attack, and everyone in the wizarding world knew to look for the curly-haired, brown-eyed brunette who played a big role in The Defeat. But no one found her. The wizarding world moved on, Ron Weasley married Luna Lovegood, and Harry Potter joined the Aurors. Most of the world thought Hermione Granger was dead, for surely no one alive could hide and evade the searches of Harry Potter. Now, only a small number of people chose to believe that she was still alive and Garrick Ollivander knew better.

For years Garrick kept Hermione's secret as tightly guarded as his own. Yet, as he looked at the man sat in front of him and recalled the boy he met earlier that day, he had a very good feeling that her secret would soon be no more. But for now, Garrick knew this story was not his to tell.

He took a sip of his tea and gave Harry a smile.

"Yes, Harry. The boy and the wand belong to one another; of that I am sure."

* * *

Author's Note: I am absolutely overwhelmed by the response this story had received. Thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and favourites!


	5. Chapter 5

**domus** ( _noun_ )  
home

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Thursday, August 20th 2009

Hermione stretched from behind her desk and rubbed the back of her neck. For the past week she had been tirelessly working on her most recent project with the Acropolis Museum of Greece. Their director, a Greek man named Demetre Demos, had commissioned Hermione's efforts in unearthing more information about famed items of Greek mythology. The museum had an ambitious project to determine and find real life objects which Greek mythological items were modeled after. Since myths and legends were inspired by real-life events, Director Demos thought that the same could be said for the fabled objects.

As a freelance researcher and historian, Hermione was able to schedule her time any way she liked; one of the many perks her job provided. Another perk was working from home. She glanced at the grandfather clock next to a large bookshelf and decided that it was time to find her son. It had been a good couple of hours since they parted after breakfast and Hermione found it odd that she hadn't seen nor heard from him since then.

Hermione exited her study and padded down the carpeted hallway. She peeked into his opened bedroom and found it empty inside. Satisfied to find it tidy, she closed the bedroom door before heading down the stairs and onto the main floor of their three-storey townhouse. He wasn't in the kitchen, nor was he in the living room. She looked out the kitchen window into the backyard to find it empty as well. Hermione walked into the last remaining room of her house to find her son sprawled across the sofa of the den.

James was still wearing his pyjamas as he poured over the large tome of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander. Hermione could see all of his other first-year books scattered about and James was twirling his wand with his right hand. Hermione shook her head before calling out his name. James stopped his twirling and tore his eyes away from the book to catch his mother's eyes. He gave her a beaming smile before sitting up on the couch.

"Hi, mum! I'm just reading some of my books." He replied. Hermione entered the room and sat next to her son. James immediately placed the book he was reading onto her lap so he could show her the chapter he was currently on - it was the chapter on dragons.

"I can see that, love. Learned anything new?" Hermione inquired, ruffling James' hair.

James nodded enthusiastically. "Did you know that there are so many species of dragons? All shapes and sizes… apparently not _all_ of them breathe fire though most do. Have you ever seen a dragon, mum?"

Hermione almost chuckled at the question. Boy, did she ever see a dragon. Deciding it's probably not a good idea to tell her excitable son that she had, in fact, _ridden_ a dragon, she opted to tell him a different story instead.

Nodding, Hermione said, "Yes, I've seen a dragon. When I was in first year, one of my friends came across a dragon egg. He decided that he wanted to raise this dragon so he actually hatched the egg! I was there when it hatched. I can't remember what type of dragon it was, but I do remember it breathing fire and setting his beard on fire!"

Hermione laughed and James broke into giggles over the story. For the past month he had been pouring over his textbooks and every day he was more in awe of this new world he had yet to explore. Hermione tried her best to answer all of his questions with anecdotes as she slowly opened up her magical past to her son. She had also been more carefree with magic around the house, using basic spells like _Accio_ and _Wingardium Leviosa_. Whenever James asked to learn, Hermione would teach him the basic theory of the spell and show him how to perform the accompanying wand motion properly. She knew that first years shouldn't be casting magic outside of school, but she told herself that all she's teaching him were the most basic of spells. She wanted to prepare him the best she could for the magical world and she couldn't do that if she shied away from teaching him what she knew. James was more than grateful.

Yes, James was truly eager to go to Hogwarts. He would miss his mum though, and his friends. His eleventh birthday was almost three weeks ago and he celebrated it with his mum and a handful of his friends from grade school at his favourite board game cafe. It was also a sort of going away party, since that was when he told his friends he wouldn't be seeing them for Year Seven since he would be going to a boarding school in Northern Scotland. There was a lot of laughter and a few tears that day, but James came out knowing he was truly ready for his new adventure at Hogwarts.

"Mum, I'm going to miss you _so_ _much_ when I go to Hogwarts." James exclaimed, surprising Hermione with a bone-crushing hug. He sniffed and his lower lip began to quiver, the corner of his eyes slowly filling with tears. "Are you going to be okay when I go? I don't _have_ to go to Hogwarts if you don't want me to, mum."

Hermione was almost moved to tears as she returned his tight hug. She was reminded of what Ollivander told her when they were in Diagon Alley weeks ago. " _You brought that child up well, my dear girl. He's as strong as his mum,_ " Garrick had said. And it's true, Hermione could see that clearly now. James' world was turned upside down when he learned about magic. Instead of running away from it, he chose to embrace the unknown and was now set to go on a whole new adventure by himself.

"Oh love, I'll be okay. I'll miss you so much when you're at Hogwarts but we can owl each other as often as you want!" Hermione replied, squeezing him tight. James sniffed and nodded before placing a wet kiss on her cheek.

"I love you, mum."

Ollivander's voice echoed in her ears. " _A blind man can see how much that boy loves you and you love him._ "

"I love you too, baby."

* * *

Harry was awoken by a constant knocking on his door. He groaned and rolled over on his bed, burying his head underneath the pillow. Surely if he ignored them, they would go away, right? After a brief pause, the knocking started again and Harry let out a grunt of frustration as he was finally forced to leave the confines of his bed.

In no rush whatsoever, Harry pulled on a pair of denim trousers over his boxers and grabbed a t-shirt from his drawers. He had no idea what time it was but he didn't care. He had just gotten back from his latest mission overseas (Switzerland, the Alps) and was looking forward to a couple hours of shut-eye before heading into the office to do the necessary paperwork. Whoever's behind the door right now better have a damn good reason for waking him. All the Gryphons knew not to disturb "the Potter slumber" unless it was a life or death situation.

Not bothering to look at the peephole, Harry yanked his apartment door open ready to give whoever was behind it a piece of his mind. His tirade was caught on his throat when he caught sight of the figure behind the door. Or rather, two figures.

The first was the man who filled the role of his dead father. It was his father's best friend and his own godfather, Sirius Black. He looked the same as ever, Harry thought, noting Sirius' curly black hair cut to his shoulders and his mischievous grey eyes. Sirius was dressed in plain black wizard's robes and flashed Harry a smile. Harry hadn't seen his godfather in person in a while, the last time being about six months back when his mission took him to Scotland and they were able to meet at Hogsmeade. In somewhat surprising turn of events, Sirius Black was offered the role of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor after The Defeat and he had accepted. The many documented events of him fighting alongside Harry and Dumbledore during the Battle of Hogwarts against Voldemort and his Death Eaters were finally able to clear his name. For the better part of the past eleven years, Sirius had devoted himself to teaching the new students of witchcraft and wizardry in Hogwarts' halls. Needless to say that he had broken the curse of the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.

The second was a figure also very familiar to Harry. For during his seven years at Hogwarts, this man was his guide, protector, counsellor, and eventual friend. It was Professor Albus Dumbledore. He had aged since the last time Harry had seen him, yet his blue eyes were still twinkling with mirth. Dumbledore was gravely injured during the Battle of Hogwarts and had temporarily given up the position of Headmaster to Professor McGonagall to recuperate. She oversaw the rebuilding of Hogwarts during the months following The Defeat until his health was in check. She happily gave the position back, claiming that she had missed being in the classroom.

"I hope we're not interrupting, Mr. Potter." Professor Dumbledore said in his wispy voice. He gave a smile as he noticed Harry's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Oh we definitely _are_ interrupting, Albus. Didn't you see his face when he opened the door? He looked ready to blow a gasket!" Sirius answered jovially. He pushed the door open and enveloped his godson in a hug. Harry was at a loss for words. He's happy to see them, yes, but what in the world were these two men doing in his flat?

Sirius ushered the older wizard in and soon Harry found himself standing in his lounge with his godfather on the loveseat and Professor Dumbledore on the sofa. He casted a quick look around the room and sighed in relief that no clutter was visible. Looking at the empty seat on the sofa next to Dumbledore, Harry decided that it's probably best he stood to hear the reason of the men's visit.

"Sirius, Professor Dumbledore, while I'm very happy to see the two of you, I must ask _what_ you are doing here in my flat in the middle of a Thursday?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and looking at the men. Sirius gave a broad grin before he stood up and walked over to where his godson was standing.

"Harry, my boy, I've decided to retire." Sirius declared, clasping Harry on the shoulder.

Harry looked at his godfather, bewildered. "Sirius, you're not even _fifty_. I thought you loved your position at Hogwarts as the Defence professor!"

Sirius nodded his head sagely. "Yes, I treasured my position greatly and I will be forever thankful to Dumbledore for giving me the opportunity to go back to Hogwarts. But, Harry, I realized that I never really had the chance to see the world." Sirius remarked, a faraway look in his eyes. "After I graduated, I joined the Order, and then I was framed for the death of your parents and spent years in Azkaban. After escaping, I spent years living as a _dog_ to escape those blasted Death Eaters. After I finally found you, I knew I had to help any way I can to bring down Voldemort and rejoined the Order. And then after that, I was back at Hogwarts teaching. I don't regret any of the choices I've made that led me to where I am now, but I want something _different_."

Harry paused after hearing his godfather's words. Sirius remained to be one of the toughest people Harry had ever known for the very same reasons the Animagus orated just seconds before. Despite the gruelling adversities he faced over the years, Sirius triumphed and was able to lead a content and even happy life.

Harry smiled at his godfather and gave him a hug. He understood Sirius' need to get away and to want something different. He had been feeling the same way. He loved his job as the Gryphon's commander but he couldn't help but wonder if there was something more than the never-ending missions, late nights, and ever constant sense of danger. Over the years, he had grown to harden himself against missing his friends and had learned to minimize his need for companionship. But late at night, when he's tossing and turning in his bed with his body tired but his mind alert, Harry couldn't help but think back to the nights spent at the Hogwarts library or in the Gryffindor common room, with his two best friends by his side as they toiled away over their assignments. He missed those times, and he missed his best friends greatly. Ron's only an owl away, and for that Harry's grateful. But Hermione… _no_ , he wouldn't think of her right now. He _couldn't_ think about her right now.

Harry looked at his godfather with understanding eyes. "If you want to retire, then I support you Sirius. Go and see the world, but make sure you send me a lot of owls." Harry said with a grin.

Sirius smiled and nodded at Harry. "Thank you, my boy. You can count on that."

The wall clock chimed twelve which made the three men look to its direction. Harry flicked his wand causing the curtains to fold and letting the sun illuminate his lounge with bright, summer light. Looking to the clock again, Harry noted the date and looked at Sirius and Dumbledore with questioning eyes.

"So who will be taking up the position as the new Defence professor then? Isn't the school year starting up in about a week?" He asked.

It didn't go unnoticed to Harry that Sirius and Dumbledore shared a somewhat hesitant look before fixing both of their gazes on him. Dumbledore finally decided that it was his turn to speak.

Dumbledore rose from the sofa and stood by the window to look out onto the busy streets of central London. Harry had picked a good place to live. The flat was close to Diagon Alley and to the Ministry yet it was very much still in Muggle London so he could be afforded his privacy. 'Living here in the middle of the city, yet still so secluded,' Dumbledore thought.

He met Harry's inquisitive gaze. "Harry, that is why I am here today. I am here to offer you the position of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

Harry's green eyes widened. " _Me_? You _can't_ be serious. I can't possibly be the new Defence professor!" He exclaimed.

Sirius shook his head and sat down on the sofa. "And _why_ _not_? You are _the_ most qualified person I know for this, Harry, even more qualified than me! With your… history against the dark arts, and your current position as an Auror, not to mention the DA which _you_ spearheaded during school, there is no one else more qualified."

Harry's brow furrowed and he shook his head vigorously. "That's exactly why I can't. I _already_ have a job."

Dumbledore sighed and looked at Harry. He was no longer the little boy he once knew. From the innocent little bundle he left at the Dursley doorstep, Harry had now grown into a strong, powerful wizard and an even stronger man. His past shaped him to be this capable individual with a sharp mind and a tough spirit. Yet, Dumbledore could see something amiss in those deep, emerald depths of Harry's eyes.

"You need a break from that job of yours, Harry! It's seeping the life out of you - going away in missions for weeks on end. I _know_ you're doing good in the world, Harry, but it's not doing _you_ any good." Sirius pleaded.

Dumbledore nodded in assent. "We are not asking you to give up your Auror duties forever, Mr. Potter. Consider this as a temporary filling of the Defence position for the year until I find someone who can stay on for longer," he said. "I've already owled Mr. Winchester with my proposition and he is of the opinion that you need a break. He said that you can remain as the Gryphons' commander but no field work unless it's absolutely necessary." Dumbledore handed Harry a piece of parchment with his boss' signature.

Harry took the letter and quickly scanned its contents. He read Winchester's assent saying that this was a wonderful area since a holiday would just bore Harry out of his mind and _at least_ he would be doing something useful and active but still taking a break from his grueling Auror duties with this arrangement. Winchester also echoed Dumbledore's statement that he was to remain as commander of the Gryphons but all field work will be handed over to his subordinates. Winchester ended the note by saying that while the choice _was_ still Harry's to make, he was very much supportive of the idea since "a well-rested mind and soul make an even better Auror."

Harry's mind whirled. He felt a bit blindsided by the three men he grew to respect the most in the world but while he hated to admit it, he knew that they were right. What he's doing to himself wasn't healthy. He was working himself to death by his own volition. Winchester was actually one of the few Ministry department heads who encouraged a good work-life balance, since he himself had a family to look after. Harry was the same with his team - he never demanded more from the Gryphons than what they were willing to give and he's proud to say that they were one of the best, if not _the_ best, Auror team in the Ministry simply because all of them loved what they were doing and who they are with. The Gryphons had built a reputation of being like a family. There were still ranks, of course, and segregation of duties, but the trust between his team members was palpable. They've all got each other's backs and Harry was willing to die for any one of them. Maybe that's why he worked himself to death, he realized. It's quite unusual for a team commander to go on as many field duties as Harry. But Harry realized early on as their leader that many of his commands have families. They have boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses, and kids. They have someone waiting at home for them. Harry didn't. He had Ron and the Weasleys, of course, and Sirius and the many friends he made throughout the years. But Harry didn't have a family to call his own. So he chose to go on all of those field missions so his team could spend time with theirs.

But the thought of going back to Hogwarts made Harry weak. He hadn't stepped foot in the castle grounds for years. It was too haunting and too sad. He had a feeling all of the memories he'd kept locked away will resurface if he went back.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I _can't_ … I can't go back to Hogwarts," he said and expelled a ragged breath. "I'll always be reminded of _her_ ," he added softly.

"Harry…" Sirius began. He sighed and looked at Dumbledore for help. There's no easy way to breach this topic. "Harry, you _need_ to move on. Hermione has been gone for eleven years. We haven't seen nor heard anything about her for so long. She… she might be…"

"SHE IS NOT DEAD." Harry bellowed, cutting Sirius off. His eyes narrowed into a glare at his godfather, the corners filling with unshed tears. "Don't you _dare_ say she's dead, Sirius. She's not. I just… I just _know_." He ended in a broken whisper. His emerald eyes blinked furiously as he tried to keep the tears at bay. He hadn't cried over her in years. He wouldn't cry now.

Dumbledore nodded sadly. He walked over to where Harry was sat and put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Then that means _she doesn't want to be found,_ Harry. You need to let her go. Ms. Granger wouldn't want you to be like this."

Try as he might to contain them, the tears fell. Harry Potter, The Man Who Saved turned Auror extraordinaire, broke down in front of his godfather and headmaster. He buried his face onto the palm of his hands and cried. For years he tried to get over his failure of not finding her, throwing himself into his work instead. He hid the pain, sadness, and anger he felt about her disappearance from those around him, choosing to grieve in silence instead. Yes, he knew it had been eleven years; but the scar her disappearance had caused hadn't healed. The light in his life dimmed when she left and he doubted it would ever be as bright again.

Harry felt the secure arms of his godfather around him.

"Harry, my boy, you need to start living again," Sirius whispered. "It's time to come home."


	6. Chapter 6

**tergere** ( _verb_ )  
to wipe clean; to clear

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Tuesday, September 1st 2009

King's Cross station was a flurry of activity as Londoners went about their morning commutes. Men and women in neatly pressed suits walked with purpose, their briefcases swinging by their side and mobile phones on hand. People of all walks of life came and went through the station, hopping on and off the shiny locomotives parked on the platforms. Amongst the crowds of commuters walked a mother and a son. The latter was animatedly speaking to the former as he pushed a cart packed high with trunks and what appeared to be a caged owl. He was dressed in black pants, a crisp white shirt, shiny patent leather shoes, and sported a tie and cloak marked with a school's insignia. His dark black hair which had just been cut a week ago fell to his brown eyes as he chatted to his mother.

Today's the day Daniel James Watson was finally going to Hogwarts. He woke up at the crack of dawn to check, double check, and triple check that he hadn't missed a single book or clothing or memorabilia in his packed trunks. He made breakfast for his mum (her favourite - eggs and toast with a side of baked beans) before excitedly waking her up to start their day.

Hermione hadn't been able to sleep a wink the night before, so James was able to rouse her from her bed quite easily. The day she'd been most anxious for had finally arrived and Hermione was a bundle of nerves all throughout the night as she mentally prepared herself for James' departure. They had never been apart for so long before. Add on to that the fact that he would be learning magic from the very same place she ran away from and hid from for years had her wondering if she had made the right choice. She was terrified that her past would unravel in the most disastrous ways.

Her only source of comfort regarding the matter was a letter from Ollivander which he had sent after their visit in Diagon Alley. He updated her on the current state of the wizarding world and the current positions held by the people she's most concerned of. He told her that Ron had a Ministry position though currently on paternal leave with his fifth child with Luna Lovegood (she loved reading about this part, how happy she was for Ron!). He updated her on the rest of the Weasley siblings, Remus and Tonks, Sirius. Sirius was the Hogwarts Defence professor and that fact added to her trepidation but it was a risk she must take. Ollivander also told her about Harry. He told her that Harry had joined the ranks of the Aurors after The Defeat and was often away on missions chasing after dark wizards. She had always known Harry would either go down this path or play Quidditch, but her heart couldn't help but ache when she read that he was an Auror. Harry had always been the protector, The Saviour. His entire life was spent _fighting_ in one form or another and she had sincerely hoped the fall of Voldemort would be the end of that.

The wizarding world was a large place, so surely James wouldn't come across any of them at Hogwarts, right? Hermione could only hope.

She was brought out of her musings by James' excited yelp. He tugged at her hand and pointed at the brick pillar reading Platforms 9 and 10. He had been waiting for this moment since Hermione told him he had to literally run into the wall to enter Platform 9 ¾ where the Hogwarts Express will be waiting.

"Mum! We're here! We're here!" He was bouncing on his feet and couldn't stop looking at the brick pillar. Hermione could only shake her head at his exuberance. 'There's no going back now', she thought.

"Do you remember how to get onto the platform, baby?"

James enthusiastically shook his head to an affirmative. "I just have to run straight through the wall between platforms 9 and 10. It's invisible to the Muggles and the Hogwarts Express will be on the other side of the barrier!"

Hermione nodded. "That's right, and don't hesitate. Why don't you go on first and I'll watch you? I'll follow right behind."

With no hesitation indeed, James lined up his trolley a few metres away from the barrier. Giving his mum a beaming smile, he pushed the trolley with all his might and broke into a run. There was no hesitation as he went through the barrier and disappeared from sight.

Hermione sighed and readied herself. She did not know who was beyond the barrier and for all her luck it could very well be someone who recognized her. 'But it's been eleven years,' she told herself. 'People forget. Everyone could think I'm dead, and with good reason.'

She lined herself up with the wall between platforms 9 and 10. "No more hiding," she whispered as she broke into a run. She closed her eyes as she broke through the barrier and emerged on the other side.

* * *

James was in awe of the shining red locomotive parked on the tracks next to platform 9 ¾. The front half of its engine was jet black with the words Hogwarts Express engraved on a shiny red plaque. The rest of the train was a deep, polished scarlet and James could count at least twelve coaches behind the engine.

Witches and wizards of all ages bustled around him. Most were Hogwarts students already in their uniforms, the crest of their House embroidered on their cloaks along with the Hogwarts insignia. The rest of the students were just like him, first years with their all black outfits and still being fussed over by worrying parents.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see his mum staring down at him. She gave a smile and nudged her head to the side. He nodded and pushed his trolley to the far side of the platform near the engine and away from the coaches where there were less people milling about.

Hermione crouched down and straightened his tie. She arranged his hair as best as she could before giving up when it fell back to its original, unruly way. She brushed the lint off his robes and smudged at an imaginary speck of dust from his cheek. James gave a smile - his mum would usually fuss around him when she's worried.

"Mum, you don't have to worry you know," James reassured, taking hold of her busy hands. "I'll be fine at Hogwarts. I promise to do all of my assignments and send a lot of owls with Athena. I won't get into too much trouble too. I'll be good."

Hermione's only response was to draw him into a squeeze. He returned the hug with fervor and laid his head on her shoulder. "Oh I know you'll be alright, love. I just can't help it. I'll miss you _so much_. _Promise_ me you'll write often?"

James nodded his head. "I promise, mum. Make sure you stock up on owl treats for Athena since you'll be seeing her _a lot_." He reminded with a grin, earning himself a small laugh from Hermione. She could always count on her boy to make her feel better.

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a small mirror the size of a compact. Its back was pure silver with small letters HG engraved on the surface. She handed the item to James and he took it curiously. "This is a two-way mirror which I created. It's enchanted with magic that would allow you to talk to me anytime you want from anywhere you are. I have the other mirror in the pair," she explained. "Just look into the mirror and say my name. Although… it's probably best not to leave that lying around. They're quite hard to come by."

James looked at the mirror carefully and nodded his head. It looked just like an ordinary mirror to him, but he believed his mum and stored it carefully away in his cloak. "So… does this mean you can help me with assignments?" He asked cheekily.

Hermione laughed and squeezed him. She would really miss this son of hers.

The train whistle sounded three times signalling its departure in fifteen minutes. Hermione looked to the Hogwarts Express and knew it was time to say her goodbyes.

"It's best that you head on to the train, love," Hermione said softly. "Drop off your luggage at the first coach, and take Athena with you to find a compartment. It'll be a while until you reach Hogsmeade, so try and be comfortable for the ride, okay? I love you."

James nodded his head and smiled. He reached around Hermione's waist and enveloped her into a hug. He stood on his tiptoes and pecked her on the cheek. "I promise I'll write often," he said. "I'll miss you, mum. I love you too." With one last smile, he let go of her and steered his trolley towards the train that was coming alive.

Hermione followed his figure until he disappeared into the crowd. She already missed him. She blinked back tears and let out a long exhale to calm herself. There really was no going back now. That night he'll be at Hogwarts and then his story will begin.

Hermione felt a small tap on her shoulder and turned to see a lady extending a box of tissues towards her. The lady was tall with long blonde hair and blue eyes also shining with unshed tears. "Hey, do you want a tissue? I never thought this would be so hard!" She told Hermione and sniffed.

Hermione smiled and accepted her offer before dabbing at her eyes. "Thank you. I've been preparing myself for this for months and I hoped it would be easier, but I guess not."

The lady nodded. "I agree. I'm Rose, by the way. I didn't even know my baby girl - her name is Eleanor - had magic until we got her letter!"

"Nice to meet you. I'm…" Hermione paused for a second. "I'm Hermione. My son James is also a first year."

Rose smiled. "Nice to meet you, Hermione. I saw the two of you earlier. He's a very handsome boy!"

The two women smiled at each other and stood side by side as they watched the train compartment doors start to close. Five minutes later the train whistled long and the locomotive came to life. Its wheels started turning and the Hogwarts Express slowly made its way away from the platform and out of King's Cross. Hermione didn't realize her tears had started to fall until the box of tissues was offered to her again by a teary-eyed Rose.

"Hermione, I know we've just met and you might be really busy, but would you like to grab some coffee after this?" Rose asked as the train fully disappeared from view.

Hermione considered her question and looked at the friendly face of the woman next to her. Rose seemed kind enough and Hermione had been longing for the company of another parent with a magical child. Hermione's friends have no idea that she's a witch and so she couldn't quite express to them her worry and anxiety over James' departure. Rose was someone who could finally relate. "I would love that, Rose." Hermione answered.

The women turned and together they disappeared through the barrier.

* * *

James carefully navigated his way through the hallway of the Hogwarts Express with Athena's cage in hand. Some of the students were already in compartments, but many were still walking through the train trying to find their friends. Since James didn't know anyone, he thought it best to find his own compartment first so he could gather his thoughts before introducing himself to the other first years. He's not at all a shy boy, but the whole ordeal was a bit overwhelming and he wanted a couple of minutes to himself to regroup.

Thankfully, the back of the train was still filling up with students and James settled into an empty compartment. He carefully laid Athena's cage on the carpeted floor away from the door before sitting by the window. He rested his arms on the table propped underneath the window and sat quietly for a few minutes while looking out onto the platform. "This is it, James. It's time for your new adventure," he whispered to himself. "It's okay that you didn't grow up around magic. You'll be fine. Mum's just an owl away. You can talk to her anytime."

The train whistle blew and the compartment gave a jolt. Athena fussed in her cage after feeling the ground move and James reached down to stroke her head between the bars. "Shhh, it's fine, girl. Everything's alright."

Suddenly, the compartment door banged opened and James watched as two boys came into view. They were both quite tall and skinny wearing matching black robes of the first years. The slightly taller of the two, a redhead with striking blue eyes, had a hand behind his head and was looking at James sheepishly. The other, a boy with blonde hair, rolled his golden eyes at the redhead and looked at James with a smile.

"Sorry about banging the door there, mate. Didn't realize it would open so easily," the redheaded boy said.

James gave a shrug and smiled. "S'alright. No harm done."

The golden-eyed boy shook his head and snickered, "Leave it to Weasley to already cause a ruckus. Say, would you mind if we sit here with you? Everywhere else is full."

James didn't hesitate. He shook his head no and the two boys shuffled their way inside the compartment. The blonde boy had an owl cage which he sat down next to Athena's and the redhead gently ushered a tabby cat inside.

James extended his hand towards the two boys and said, "I'm Daniel James Watson, though I go by James. This is my owl, Athena. Nice to meet you."

The blonde grasped his hand first and shook it firmly. "My name is Edward Lupin, Teddy for short. My owl's Phineas." James looked at the barn-owl and noted its white feathers whose tips were tinted orange.

James grinned and asked, "Phineas… like the cartoon?"

Teddy broke into a smile and nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yes! Like the cartoon." He turned his head to the redhead who had sat down on the cushions against the compartment wall. " _See_ , Nate? I told you some people would know about cartoons."

Nate rolled his eyes before extending his hand towards James' and giving it a good shake. "The name's Nathaniel Weasley, but _please_ call me Nate. This large ball of fur is Basil."

James was reminded of his trip to Diagon Alley and wrinkled his brows as he recalled. "Weasley… hang on! Are you related to the owners of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes by any chance?!" He asked excitedly.

Nate smiled largely showing his full set of teeth. He nodded his head and picked up Basil from the floor to stroke his fur. "Yep! Uncle Fred and George are the owners."

" _Wow_! They have the funnest items ever. I bought a couple of the extendable ears to try and some of their sweets."

Teddy sat next to Nate and cautioned the excited boy, "Be careful with those sweets, James. Fred and George are notoriously… _exact_ with their items."

James sat down across from the pair, confused. "What do you mean by _exact_?"

Nate snorted and launched into a tale. "Uncle George gave Teddy here a Tongue Twisting Toffee once. He ate it and had his tongue tied in a knot _for hours_! We couldn't get it undone until Uncle Remus casted a spell!" Nate chortled as he recalled the memory. Teddy just rolled his eyes.

James gave a small laugh and smiled kindly at Teddy. "Thanks for the warning then, mate. I'll be careful around those sweets."

Teddy grinned. "No problem. Sorry if I'm being too forward, but are you a Muggleborn then? It's just… you know about cartoons and not many wizard kids do!"

James paused for a moment and looked at the kind faces of Nate and Teddy. He felt comfortable around them. "Mum's a Muggleborn and I didn't grow up around magic. Are you a Muggleborn, then?"

Teddy shook his head in the negative. "No, mum and dad are just really open to Muggle inventions. We live in a very small town north of Liverpool and it's easy to get bored. Mum suggested we get a telly and I've been hooked on it since!"

Nate thoughtfully said. "I still don't understand the fascination. It sounds like any other picture to me. There's a rectangular space with people and they move and talk. What's so special about that?"

James and Teddy shared a grin before launching on an explanation of the wonders of the television.

A couple of hours had passed on the train ride and James noticed the rolling countryside through the window. Houses passed his vision in longer intervals and he knew that they were getting farther and farther away from London. He felt content as he listened to his new friends chat about a sport called Quidditch. From what he gathered during the conversation, Quidditch national teams were in the middle of qualifying matches for the world cup which would take place early next year.

"Did you see that Wronski Feint Bulgaria pulled against New Zealand? It was _incredible_. The kiwis put up a good fight but they were no match for the Bulgarians." Teddy said, his hand moving animatedly.

Nate nodded his head. "Yea! I read it in the Daily Prophet and saw pictures. Did you hear that Krum will be retiring after the cup's over?"

"It's to be expected. He'd been in the game for _years_ ," Teddy said wisely. "I think he's still one of the best players out there though, but his body must be tired."

"Yeah, it can't be good to be beaten up by bludgers over and over again. Y'know, I think I'll try out for the Quidditch team. Dad took me flying a lot over the summer. How about you, James?" Nate inquired.

James looked at Nate and Teddy and started to laugh. Their entire conversation sounded like a foreign language to him and they're asking him if he would be trying out for a sport he didn't even knew existed? "Sorry, mates, but I have no idea what Quidditch is."

There was a pause in the carriage as the two boys looked at James with their mouths hanging open. Basil meowed before curling a tail around Nate's ankle. The movement brought him out of his shock and he got up to his feet and gasped, "You don't know what Quidditch is?!"

The next hour of the train ride was spent with Teddy and Nate explaining to James the best sport in the world. James had to admit, it all sounded so amazing and fantastical. Flying brooms, enchanted balls designed to knock players off of said flying brooms, and a golden golf ball which flies so fast it seemed to turn invisible was what James learned about Quidditch. He could see that Nate was interested in playing the game while Teddy was more interested in watching the game, especially the professional matches. The boy could list all of the players in any Quidditch team, national or not, as well as their match stats.

"So let me get this straight… the quaffle is what Chasers use to score points, while the Keeper of the opposing team tries to prevent the quaffle from going into one of the three hoops? Beaters use bats to send bludgers to enemy players to try and knock them off their broom… Meanwhile, there's the Seeker whose sole purpose is to find the Golden Snitch to score massive amounts of points for their team and end the game." James recounted.

Nate and Teddy nodded their headed in unison. "That's exactly right! The boy learns fast, Nate." Teddy said.

James sent the two a grin before wincing as he imagined himself being hit by a bludger. "It sounds like a cool game but… very brutal. I don't know if I'll be trying out for the House teams. I don't even know how to fly!"

"That's alright. All first years will be taught how to fly a broom!" Nate reassured.

James gulped as he imagined himself high in the air with only the broom between him and the earth. He sent Nate a shaky smile as he tried not to imagine himself plummeting to the ground.

The snack trolley rolled by their compartment an hour later and the boys purchased snacks for themselves and their pets. James had never seen such assortment of sweet pastries before. There were pumpkin pasties and treacle tarts as well as slices of carrot cake and banana bread. There were snacks he didn't recognize either, such as odd pentagonal boxes marked with "Chocolate Frog" and a box of jelly beans Teddy was being very careful to eat.

He gave Athena an apple slice and watched the blonde boy take a bite out of a bright green jellybean which he thought was lime. Teddy grimaced and stuck his tongue out as he forced the bean down. "Eck, brussel sprouts. Not the worst, but definitely not the best either."

Nate snorted as he reached to open one of the Chocolate Frogs. "I could never understand why you choose to eat that rubbish," he said, prying the box open. A croak was heard and a literal chocolate frog jumped out from its confines and landed inside Phineas' cage. The owl saw its opportunity and pounced, pinning the frog between its sharp beak and swallowing it whole.

Teddy laughed from his seat and shoved playfully at Nate's shoulder. "At least my snack doesn't hop away from me!"

The three boys shared a laugh and ate the rest of their snacks contentedly.

Night had fallen and James found himself hovered over the table across from the two boys playing a card game called Exploding Snap which Nate produced from his pocket. The game played very much like the Muggle card game Cheat except some cards had a tendency to explode.

James carefully picked two cards from his hand and laid them face down onto the table. "Two cyclops," he said confidently.

From across the table he saw Teddy's brows wrinkle as his grey eyes darted between the large pile of cards in his hand and the cards that are faced down. He looked satisfied with what James said and placed two cards of his own on top of the pile. "Two giant squids," he said.

Nate grinned in triumph and with no second guessing, he yelled "Snap!" The two cards Teddy just played flipped over to reveal one giant squid and one manticore cards. The blonde boy groaned and two cards in his hand spontaneously exploded into a pile of ashes, covering his face and the front of his robes in soot. James laughed and wiped a tear from his eyes as he looked at the miserable blonde.

"Mate, you are a _terrible_ liar!" Nate managed to choke out from between his laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Teddy mumbled as he tried to wipe away the soot with not much luck.

Taking pity on the boy, James removed his wand from the confines of his robes. Confidently, James waved his wand in a familiar motion and recited the incantation clearly. " _Tergeo_."

The soot on Teddy's robes started to gather itself into a pile as if a very tiny person was sweeping at it. First his tie was cleaned, then his collars, and finally the lapels of his Hogwarts robes until all of the soot on his clothing was centralized at one dark spot on his chest. And then that pile of soot was gone, too. The same happened to his face. The spell cleaned his hair first before moving on to his forehead, then the rest of his face, and finally his neck before disappearing the dust into nothingness. Nate and Teddy looked at the boy, stunned. It was just a simple cleaning spell, but it was executed flawlessly.

"Thanks, mate. But where did you learn how to do _that_?" Teddy asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

James shrugged. "My mum taught me," he replied.

Nate sighed. "You're so lucky. Mum and dad refused to let me do magic until I've learned it at Hogwarts since they thought I might mess up around the kids or something."

Teddy snorted. "You _did_ mess up around the kids! I was there when you tried to levitate a cookie to impress the twins but you levitated their stroller instead!"

Nate turned as red as his hair. "That was the _first_ time I've tried! And I learned to do it eventually… though mum and dad doesn't know."

James observed the two bickering boys carefully. It didn't take him very long to clue in that while the two weren't related, they were part of a big, extended family. Teddy and Nate seemed to know each other very well, and many of their stories overlapped.

"Hey James, do you have any siblings?" Nate asked all of a sudden.

James shook his head. "No, although I've always wanted one."

"Well, take it from me, it's not always fun and games. I have four younger siblings and my youngest sister Lexa was just born a couple of months ago."

James' eyes bugged at the number. "Four?! Wow, that's… a lot."

Nate nodded his head. "Tell me about it, but mum always wanted a girl. It's the curse of the Weasley genes, you see. On my dad's side of the family, there are SEVEN of them. The only girl, Aunt Ginny, is also the youngest."

"Wow," James breathed. "I'm an only child. Mum was an only child too and I don't think she has any cousins. So… it's really just her and I," he explained.

"Wanna trade?" Nate joked. "Really, mate, what I would give to have some peace and quiet to myself."

"Grass is always greener," Teddy piped. James turned his head to the blonde boy.

"How about you, Teddy? Do you have any siblings?" He asked.

"Nope," Teddy said and grinned. "And I'm happy about it. I'm the apple of mum and dad's eye," he said with a wink. "Besides, I see the Weasleys often enough anyway. They're kind of like my cousins." Nate nodded his head in agreement to Teddy's statement.

"How is it that your families came to know each other, anyway?" James asked curiously.

"Well, my parents were part of some sort of club that the Weasleys were a member of a long time ago," Teddy explained. "I don't really know much about it, but dad had known the Weasleys soon after he graduated Hogwarts and that was _years and years_ ago."

"Uncle Remus also taught Defence Against the Dark Arts when dad was in Hogwarts!" Nate explained further. "I think that was when he and Uncle Harry were in third year, right?"

Teddy pondered his question for a second before nodding his head. "That's right. And speaking of Uncle Harry, he's another reason why our families know each other, James," he said. Teddy put a hand to his chin and tried to recall the stories he had been told. "Uncle Harry is mine and Nate's godfather. He and Uncle Ron, Nate's dad, were best friends at Hogwarts and my dad was best friends with _his_ dad when they were at school!"

James' mind spun as he tried to make sense of all the familial connections described to him by the two boys. There were just too many. James said honestly, "I wish I could have a family as large as yours."

Nate and Teddy grinned at one another, an unspoken agreement passing between the two. Nate stood from his seat and rounded the table. He laid a hand on James' shoulder and with utmost sincerity said, "You're our friend now, mate. Our family is yours!"

The moon couldn't outshine James' bright smile.

* * *

Author's Note: Next stop - Hogwarts! Thank you for all of your support.


	7. Chapter 7

**quadrivium** ( _noun_ )  
crossroads

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

The Hogwarts Express slowed to a stop on a platform lined with red brick buildings. The coaches' doors opened simultaneously and students of all years spilled from the train and filled the platform. James, Nate, and Teddy made their way onto the deck and glanced at their surroundings. "Hogsmeade Station" was what the golden placard nailed to the brick wall of the main building read. It was a small station, definitely not even close to the size and grandeur of King's Cross back in London, but James liked the quaint feel. There was a slight chill in the air and that, coupled with the aesthetics of the station, made him feel like he's in the movie Polar Express. The platform just about spanned the length of the train with bright lamps illuminating the way. One end extended to a cobble-stoned road which led to, what James could tell, a clearing in the dense forest next to the station. The other end extended to a small walkway heading towards lower ground.

Older students with their House emblems embroidered on their robes immediately turned to the road and started walking towards the forest clearing. Just as the boys were about to follow, a booming voice stopped them in their tracks and a big, hulking, giant of a man came strutting into view with a lamp dangling from his hand. James' eyes widened as they travelled the length of the man. He was, without a doubt, the tallest and largest person James had ever laid eyes on. He had wild, curly black hair down to his broad shoulders and an equally wild and curly beard. He had on a brown fur coat reaching his calves (with so many pockets, James noted) and black leather boots.

"It's Hagrid!" Nate whispered, looking at the man with a smiling face. James noted that Teddy was also looking at him in the same manner.

"You know him?" James asked hesitantly.

The two boys nodded affirmative. "He's a family friend," Teddy explained.

"Firs' years, firs' years - this way!" Hagrid boomed. The stunned first years, with their eyes wide open half in awe and half in fear, cautiously approached him. Teddy and Nate dragged James to the front of the crowd and beamed at Hagrid. James had never felt so small before as he looked up at the tall figure. It didn't escape his notice when Hagrid winked at Nate and Teddy standing beside him. "M'name's Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid, and I'm the Keeper of Keys and Care of Magical Creatures professor 'ere at Hogwarts," Hagrid introduced himself with a gigantic smile. James was surprised to learn that he's a professor, and wondered how he was able to fit his large frame inside a classroom. "Follow me this way and mind yer step - we're heading to the dock."

Hagrid led the way down to the cobblestoned path, the group of eager first years scurrying behind. Every step Hagrid took was like three steps combined for the students and they all had to hurry to keep pace with the man. All of their trunks and even their pets were left on the train and James wondered who will have the mammoth task of doing the unloading.

Soon down the path, Hagrid slowed his walking and James felt that he's no longer on stone ground but rough wood. He saw that they were walking on a long dock with multiple wooden boats tied to either side. On each boat was a small oil lamp but James realized there were no oars. From behind Hagrid, James could glimpse that they were in an inlet. The moon shone down on clusters of tall coniferous trees on land extending past the dock. In the middle, the small little inlet where they were extended into a vast body of water. James couldn't glimpse the land on the other side, perhaps because it was so dark, but the calmness of the water assured him it was a lake instead of the open sea.

Hagrid slowed to a halt and turned around to face the eager first years. "We'll be ridin' these boats here to get to the castle," he said, gesturing his large hand to the boats tied to the dock. "Three or four to a boat please, and try not to fall into the water. You don't wanna be sopping wet during the Sorting, now, would you?" Hagrid said with a booming laugh.

James, Nate, and Teddy made their way onto a boat and carefully got inside. James thought that the paddles were simply hidden from view whilst he was on the dock but there really weren't any at all. "There are no paddles here - how're we going to move?" He whispered to his companions. Teddy and Nate simply shrugged for they didn't know either. Not knowing what else to do, James simply grabbed the oil lamp from the floor of the boat and held it on his lap.

Soon, all of the first years were boarded. Satisfied that there were no stragglers and no one he needed to pluck from the water, Hagrid boarded his own boat at the very end of the dock. James was still waiting on instructions from Hagrid on how they were to row the boat to wherever the school was, but none came. There were no instructions necessary, it seemed, since the boats started to move by themselves.

James felt his eyes widen. He glanced at Nate and Teddy and saw that they, too, were looking wildly around the boat to see how it was moving. Gasps and yelps from the other first years floated to James' ears and he felt a bit of comfort that he wasn't alone in his surprise. From the front of the moving boats Hagrid turned around and regarded the first years with a beaming smile. Just as the caravan of boats left the inlet and turned to the east, Hagrid's booming voice travelled through the group. "Don't you worry now - it's all magic. And... welcome to Hogwarts."

There on the cliffs towering over the giant man, James could see a magnificent castle. "Amazing," he heard Teddy breathed in a whisper next to him and all he could do was nod. It was an amazing sight indeed, probably one of the most amazing things James had ever seen in all his eleven years of life. The castle was enormous with tall spires and spiralling towers and James could bet it was equally large underground. Bright light shone from its many windows adding to the multitude of stars twinkling in the night sky.

The castle rested atop a staggering cliff, and James could see in the distance that stairs carved out of the rock extended down the cliff to a small dock. A hushed silence fell over the first years as the boats made their way towards the cliff edge. Magic carefully guided the boats to the dock and the castle loomed above.

Once the boats were safely moored, Hagrid disembarked first and waited for his charge. The students followed his lead and stepped off the boat. Gesturing to the stone steps behind him leading up to the castle, Hagrid said, "We're almost there. Mind yer steps please."

Turning around, he led the students up the steps and into Hogwarts.

* * *

Bright lights assaulted James' senses as he stepped inside the castle. Squinting his chocolate brown eyes, he caught sight of a grand marble staircase in front of him. He and the other first years students seemed to be at the main foyer of the castle, with the gigantic oaken doors closing quietly behind. Candles hung on chandeliers illuminated the place in soft light. The high walls were filled with moving portraits whose figures looked at the first years with curiosity. Suits of armour and different statues of witches and wizards stood tall and proud against the stone walls.

Hagrid led the way up the marble staircase and in front of another set of large doors. An elderly witch was waiting outside. She was wearing deep purple robes and a pointy black hat. Her dark brown hair was tied in a neat bun at the nape of her neck and her cat-like eyes swept over the group. Hagrid tipped his head in polite acknowledgement. "Professor McGonagall, the first years."

Professor McGonagall nodded her head at Hagrid and glanced at the group once again. 'They always look so young' she thought, as she saw the anticipation and wonder on their faces. Clearing her throat, she surveyed the group and spoke. "I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor of Hogwarts," she said in a clear voice. "Behind these doors is the Great Hall where you will be Sorted into your respective Houses. There are four Houses: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. Your House will be like your family. Your successes will earn you points, while any rule breaking and mischief will cause you to lose points. The House with the most points by the end of the year will win the House Cup. Now, follow me."

The large doors opened and Professor McGonagall led the first years inside the Great Hall with Hagrid following at the rear. James couldn't help it as his eyes widened and his jaws dropped in surprise and awe at its splendour. Four long tables lined the length of the Great Hall with a pathway down the middle. Students years two and up were already seated in their respective House tables and surveyed the group with interest. At the far end of the hall was another table, this one occupied by professors. A large, stained glass window depicting a portrait of the four Founders dominated that wall. But what James couldn't tear his eyes away from was the ceiling. Or rather, what _should_ be the ceiling. Since in place of any solid barrier, James saw treetops extending to the night sky. Branches of the conifers reached high and cradled the stars and bright moon against their leaves. It was as if the Great Hall was in the middle of a forest clearing.

"The ceiling is enchanted," Teddy whispered from his right, breaking James out of his reverie. He mutely nodded his head and continued to gaze at the stars in awe.

"I hope we get Sorted into the same House," Nate whispered from behind. This made James pause when he realized that he may not be the in same House as his newfound friends.

"Who decides what House we go to?" James asked.

"Not _who_ , but _what_ ," Teddy said.

Before he could ask any other question, Professor McGonagall stopped at the head of their line and gestured for the first years to gather in front of her. Hagrid stepped around the first years and sat at his seat on the professor's table next to an empty spot. James' eyes travelled from Hagrid to the other professors in line until he reached the centre of the table where an older wizard with a long, white beard sat atop a golden chair. His blue eyes shone with interest through half-moon spectacles as he surveyed the group of first years. He was wearing velvet green robes and matching hat with his shining white hair spilling underneath. He looked ancient and wise and from his readings, James recognized him as Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.

A wooden stool was perched on the dais in front of the group. A brown leather hat which had seen better days sat on top of the stool. Professor McGonagall looked at the group once more and produced a scroll from the pocket of her robe. "When your name is called, please come up and the Sorting Hat will be placed on your head. Now -"

A loud bang interrupted the witch and all heads swerved to the left of the professor's table to where a door was pushed open. A tall figure emerged from the darkness and the hall interrupted in gasps and whispers.

James felt Nate's hand grab his shoulder and he looked behind to see Nate and Teddy glancing at the figure with wide eyes. In utter surprise, Nate whispered, "It's Uncle Harry!"

* * *

Harry Potter knew he timed his entrance incorrectly. He expected to appear at the _earliest_ when the Sorting Ceremony was over. Hell, he fully intended to arrive after the students had already left for their dormitories. But, as luck would have it, he was too early and arrived even before the Sorting began. He blamed the accelerated speeds of his new broomstick.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry looked at Professor Dumbledore for help. The older wizard was the only person, aside from his godfather and boss, who knew that he was taking up the position of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He decided on it last minute. After Dumbledore's and Sirius' surprise visit, Harry took a couple of days to decide whether or not it was something he wanted to do and something he _could_ do. After a lot of deliberating and soul-searching, he decided it was probably best for him. They were right, of course - it was time for him to move on and there's no better place to start than where it all began. Besides, Hogwarts was his home and he had missed it these past few years. After getting his affairs settled with Trenton and agreeing to remain as the Gryphon's chief albeit having less of a physical role, Harry finally told Sirius and Dumbledore his decision just a day before school was set to begin. He packed his trunks the morning of September 1st and spent the afternoon and early evening flying from his flat in London to Hogwarts located in the Scottish highlands. He was utterly exhausted but from the growing whispers of everyone else in the hall, he knew his night was far from over. He _really_ wished he had paid more attention to the time.

Albus Dumbledore stood from his seat with a wide smile and looked at the surprised faces of his students and professors. He raised a wand to his neck and cleared his throat, the sound travelling throughout the vast expanse of the room. The whispers quieted and hundreds of eyes shifted between the headmaster and the newcomer. "I don't usually do announcements before the Sorting, but I think we can break tradition once in a while," he began, his voice clear and loud. "It is my pleasure to introduce to you our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - Harry Potter."

For a brief moment the silence was deafening, until the hall erupted into loud gasps and everyone started talking.

" _Harry Potter_ is our new professor?!"

"This is _so_ cool."

"I thought he's an _Auror_ , what is he doing here?"

"Uncle Harry's _the new_ _professor_?" Teddy asked in surprise. "Dad didn't tell me about this _at all_ and they're both Aurors!"

"My dad didn't tell me about this either," Nate said in shock. "D'you reckon they know?" Teddy could only shrug.

While everyone else was marvelling at the new professor, James could not tear his eyes away from what he was carrying. For there in Harry Potter's right hand was the broom James had seen in Diagon Alley - the Stormbreaker 360. It was even more magnificent outside of its glass case and James wanted so much to hold it. His eyes traced the broom from its neatly trimmed bristles, to the polished wooden stem, and finally to the man whose strong hand was clasped around it. James noted that Harry Potter was an imposing figure. He was dressed in the Auror uniform which he had only seen in the "light reading" books his mum had bought him. He had on black leather boots laced to just past his ankles with the legs of his slim black pants tucked underneath. He wore a fitted double breasted jacket of pure black except for the embroidered gold stitching on the neckline, lapels, and cuffs. The buttons were solid gold embossed with an image he couldn't quite see from the distance. The jacket's collar was high and extended to a sharp jaw, pursed mouth, chiseled nose, and the greenest eyes James had ever seen behind metallic black frames.

If James was asked to describe Harry Potter using only one word, he would describe him as strong. Harry Potter held himself confidently as he surveyed the hall. The man was tall and lean yet James could glimpse the swell of his muscles as he transferred the broom to his other hand. The green eyes swept over the hall with intent as if studying each and every person they passed. He was hardly moving, but James could see the tension in his body as if like a cobra waiting to strike. Harry Potter's green eyes finally met his brown orbs and they held gazes for a minute before James broke away. Well, the man's certainly not afraid of eye contact.

Harry Potter was definitely an impressive looking figure, but James could not understand why everyone was so shocked by his appearance.

Leaning close to Nate and Teddy, he whispered into their ears, "Is he famous or something?"

"WHAT?!"

All eyes turned to the three boys and the redhead immediately clamped his hands over his mouth. Nate's face began to flame as red as his hair and he wished the ground would open and swallow him up. His embarrassment only deepened as Dumbledore's laughter filtered through the hall.

"Thank you for that, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said with eyes twinkling. "I think we've delayed the Sorting just about enough. Professor Potter, I welcome you once again and please take a seat and make yourself comfortable." Harry gave a nod of his head before setting his broom aside and taking a seat next to a very joyful Hagrid. "Professor McGonagall, kindly resume the Sorting."

Minerva McGonagall, who had been silent the entire time though her head was in turmoil, gave a stiff nod of acknowledgement to Dumbledore. Quickly passing her eyes through Harry Potter, she faced the first years again and cleared her throat. Unrolling her parchment, she recited the first name on the list and began the Sorting.

Harry couldn't help the smile from creeping into his face as Hagrid whispered his welcome and stated over and over again that he's glad to have Harry back at Hogwarts. Harry had similar sentiments and told Hagrid that he's glad to see old friends and familiar faces. He patted Hagrid's hand on the table and the half-giant turned weepy.

Harry turned his attention back to the dais where the fifth student, a girl named Olivia DeLeon, was Sorted into Gryffindor. Harry thought it fitting since he recognized the last name and knew it meant "of the lion". Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and the shy, raven-haired petite made her way to her new House.

"Edward Lupin."

His tall, gangly godson whose hair was currently blonde and eyes gold made his way to the stool and sat. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head and stepped back. Harry was confident Teddy would be placed in either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor due to his parents' history.

"Gryffindor!" yelled the Sorting Hat. The Sorting Hat was plucked from his head and Teddy joined the cheering table of red and gold. Harry grinned and made a note to owl Remus.

The crowd of first years was shrinking as they were sorted into their respective Houses. Professor McGonagall, with her unwavering voice as clear as ever, continued her reading of names from the parchment.

"Nathaniel Ronald Weasley."

Harry could see his other godson tense as he approached the chair. Harry had no doubt though, for he knew the Weasley history. There had never been a Weasley Sorted differently, and if Harry was a betting man, he would bet his entire fortune that Nate would be sorted into -

"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat yelled as its brim barely touched Nate's brow. The boy visibly calmed and Harry smiled as Nate joined Teddy and the other cheering Gryffindors on the long table by the middle of the hall.

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment before continuing.

"Daniel James Watson."

A boy Harry recognized though he couldn't remember from where gulped as he stepped onto the dais. The Sorting Hat was placed atop his head and Harry studied the boy trying to discern where he had seen him before. He saw that the boy seemed close to Nate and Teddy, though he didn't recognize him as one of Nate's or Teddy's friends from before. Harry concluded that they probably met on their journey to Hogwarts. Squinting his green eyes to study the boy closer, he was _sure_ he had seen his face before and it's driving him mad that he couldn't remember where.

Unlike the other Sortings, the Sorting Hat was taking its time to decide where Daniel James Watson belonged. Harry knew the feeling, for the Sorting Hat conversed with him privately inside his head for a few minutes during his own Sorting, before finally placing him in Gryffindor like he wanted. He wondered what the Sorting Hat was telling the boy right now since Daniel James seemed to be in such deep concentration.

Another minute passed and still the Sorting Hat did not make a decision. The Hall was quiet and all eyes were on the young boy. Harry could see the boys' brows furrowed but he didn't seem to be worried anymore. He seemed to be at peace as he conversed with the Hat inside his head and Harry had to admire him for his calmness. Harry's eyes swept through the Hall once more and landed on Professor McGonagall who was watching the boy. Harry noticed the tension in her posture, and he remembered how shocked and almost distressed she looked when he was announced as the new Defence professor. Minerva had grown to be a friend over these years, and she and Harry would owl each other whenever their schedules permit. It's been a long time since they'd actually seen each other face to face, but Harry thought they were still close. If Molly Weasley was like a mother figure to him, then Minerva McGonagall was like his aunt. It had hurt when she refused to meet his eyes during his introduction and Harry made a note to speak to her after the students had gone to bed. What's curious, though, was how she was watching Daniel James Watson's Sorting so intently. She didn't seem to be that invested with the other students' Sortings, but here she was with her gaze unwavering on the boy with the Hat.

"Gryffindor!"

Harry saw the boy's smile stretch across his face and he mouthed a 'thank you' before hopping off the chair and joining his fellow Gryffindors. He could see Nate and Teddy cheering wildly as Daniel James sat between the two boys. Harry had to smile as he saw his godsons and their new friend. Shifting his gaze slightly to the left, Harry caught sight of McGonagall again. The older lady was now looking at the three boys with a small smile on her face, all the tension gone from her system.

After a Thomas Snyde and an Eleanor Green were Sorted into Slytherin and Ravenclaw respectively, the Sorting finally ended and the Sorting Hat removed from the dais. Dumbledore stood from his seat and regarded his school once again.

"First years and new faculty, welcome to Hogwarts," he said, eyes sweeping the hall and nodding at Harry. "For all others, welcome back! Another full year of magical learning awaits us. Your schedules will be handed out at breakfast tomorrow and your classes will officially begin after. Like always, the Forbidden Forest is strictly forbidden and our caretaker, Mr. Filch, had asked me to remind you that the new list of banned items had been posted on his office door. Use of such items will lead to detention so please try not to cause too much mischief." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked at the young Weasley boy. "Without further ado, tuck in!"

At his words, trays and platters of different kinds of foods appeared on the tables much to James' delight. There were bangers and mash, roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, fish and chips, casserole dishes filled with shepherd's pie and chicken pot pie, all sorts of meats and cheeses, and boiling pots of different soups. The dessert trays were stacked as well, and James could see treacle tarts, pumpkin pies, cheesecakes, and different kinds of cakes and cookies. This was the most food James had seen all at once and he eagerly piled his plate with his favourite dishes.

"Dad told me that Hogwarts has the BEST food." Nate said while eating a turkey leg.

Teddy nodded eagerly and ate a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

James had to smile as he watched his friends consume their meals and his eyes drifted again to the front table. Much to his disappointment, the Stormbreaker 360 was gone and he watched Professor Potter converse with a dark haired man with a long nose.

"Why do you keep looking at Uncle Harry, er, Professor Potter, James?" Teddy asked curiously.

James grinned sheepishly. "I saw that he had this broom that I saw at Diagon Alley."

Nate nodded his head furiously. "Dad and Uncle Ha- bah! It's going to be hard _not_ calling him Uncle. I mean to say, Dad and Professor Potter are big Quidditch fans. Dad got an owl from him recently saying he's bought the newest Stormbreaker 360! Fastest broom on the market currently though with a lot of unusual charms. Guess it'll be great for an Auror though… but he's really not an Auror right now, is he? Since he's our new professor?"

Teddy shrugged and looked at the front table. "I thought he always loved being an Auror. Dad said he's the best Auror he had ever seen."

James look curiously at Teddy. "Is your dad an Auror too, Teddy?"

"Yeah. He actually works in the same team as Professor Potter. Uncle Harry's the squad leader. He's been an Auror since he graduated. We really had no idea he would be the new professor..."

James looked at the new professor with a knowing look in his eyes. From his readings, he knew what Aurors were trained to do. Their main purpose was to uphold the wizard law, and this meant protecting the innocent and catching those who practice in dark magic. This meant apprehending very dangerous people and risking their lives every time they go out on missions.

"Maybe that's why he decided to become a professor. It can't be easy being an Auror for all those years." James said as he watched Harry Potter converse with another.

The two boys could only nod as they got back to their meals.

* * *

If eleven year old Harry Potter was told that he'd be conversing with his Potions professor in the future, as a colleague, about the uses of potions in his very specialized line of work, he'd have called them mad. But here Harry found himself doing just that as he and Severus Snape talked about the Stellaserum potion which, once drank, would give its drinkers the ability to see in the dark.

Harry Potter and Severus Snape had formed a camaraderie over the years following the War and Harry truly believed they would not have won if not for the potionmaster's infiltration of the Death Eater ranks. An ugly scar marred the inside of Snape's left forearm where the Dark Mark had once been, and it served as a constant reminder of what he had endured and done for the good. After the battle and rebuilding of Hogwarts, Snape chose to stay in his position as Potions professor and it was quite an interesting few months when Sirius Black joined the faculty as the Defence teacher. The two were still at loggerheads with each other despite fighting on the same side just months prior, but when Sirius came back for his second year of teaching they found a way to tolerate one another. Harry, meanwhile, was climbing the ranks of the Auror. When a mission required a complex brew of polyjuice to allow the drinker a full week of disguise with only one dose, the Hogwarts potionmaster was consulted by Harry's squad. Since then, Snape had been consulted by the Gryphons for potion related items and he and Harry had formed a friendship and mutual respect for each other's crafts.

Near the end of the feast, Snape excused himself from the conversation and left for his office to finish preparing for tomorrow's lessons. Harry's eyes swept over the Great Hall and landed on the three boys consisting of his godsons and their friend. Deciding it was best to greet the boys, he stood from his seat and made his way to the middle of the Gryffindor table where the three were seated. He could feel multiple sets of eyes on his back as he walked and Harry let out a sigh. It had been years since The Defeat and his secret missions rarely made it to the papers, but still he was famous, or rather, infamous. He had gotten used to it over the years but he couldn't help but long for normalcy.

Nate, Teddy, and their new friend were in the middle of a conversation about their upcoming classes when he walked up behind them.

"You mean to say you've read _all_ of your Hogwarts books already?!" Nate asked the other boy with his eyes wide.

The boy, Daniel James, nodded his head with a shrug. "I've always loved reading."

"Well how come you didn't know about Quidditch then?!"

Daniel James smiled sheepishly. "There was no book on Quidditch that mum and I bought."

Harry decided to interject then. "If you want to read about Quidditch, I highly suggest _Quidditch Through the Ages_ by Kennilworthy Whisp."

Three heads turned around and looked at him. A set of blue eyes and a set of gold eyes shone with brightness as the set of brown eyes looked at him plainly. There was no awe or surprise or even recognition in those brown orbs and Harry's mouth curved up briefly.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy exclaimed before biting his lip. "Um, I mean Professor Potter. Hello, sir."

Harry grinned as he looked at his two godsons. "Teddy, Nate, I know this is a surprise but my accepting of this position was rather last minute. I haven't told your dads yet."

Nate nodded his head furiously. "I knew it. Dad didn't say anything to me this morning. Say, Professor Potter, is it okay we tell them?"

Harry smiled and nodded his head. "Absolutely, I was going to owl them myself but feel free to do the honours. I know it might be strange at first that I'll be teaching here, but I really hope we can work it out. It's important that you call me Professor while in school though, but 'Uncle Harry' can be used when we're out of school walls… like the Quidditch pitch." Harry said with a wink.

Teddy and Nate grinned at him and nodded their heads.

Nate, remembering his newest friend hadn't yet been introduced or even _knew_ who Harry Potter was, clasped James' shoulder.

"Professor Potter, this is James Watson."

After being introduced, James stood up from the long chair and extended a hand for a shake like he was taught by his mum. "I'm Daniel James Watson, though I go by James. It's nice to meet you, Professor Potter."

Harry looked at the boy with his tall but thin frame, tousled black hair, and familiar brown eyes. This boy kept surprising him. It's clear James had no idea who he was, and that told Harry he was a Muggleborn who likely learned of his magical heritage later in life. But from what Harry heard of conversations between this boy and his godsons, James seemed to be quite a keen reader and Harry could tell he had great potential for doing well in classes. The boy's mannerisms surprised him as well. He was laid back, observing, but definitely not shy as proven by his outstretched hand. There was a quiet confidence in the boy that Harry admired.

Harry stretched his hand and grasped the boy's. James clasped his hand firmly and Harry returned his handshake equally as strong.

"I'm Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you, James."


	8. Chapter 8

**veritas vos liberabit  
** the truth shall you set free

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Minerva McGonagall walked through the halls of Hogwarts with purpose. The heels of her shoes clicked against the marbled floor as she strode through the empty second floor hallway towards the gargoyle. It was an hour after the end of the welcome feast and students have been sent to their dormitories while old and _new_ professors retired to their corners of the castle. Finally reaching the towering gargoyle, Professor McGonagall said the secret password.

"Coffee Crisp."

The stone gargoyle sprang to life and rotated clockwise revealing a spiralling staircase carved against the stone. Professor McGonagall began her ascent on the stairs when the movement stopped until she reached the office of the Headmaster. The circular room was full of different gadgets making little noises and its tall walls were covered with portraits of old school heads. They noticed her entering the office and bowed their heads in greeting. McGonagall paid no notice as she stalked towards the front of a huge clawfoot desk where Albus Dumbledore was set behind.

He was writing a letter with a long feathery quill when he noticed her presence. Setting down his quill and folding his hands atop the table, he looked at the Deputy Headmistress and finally saw her sour countenance. She was _not_ in a good mood and he had a feeling he would soon find out why.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall. What can I do for you?"

"How can you _not_ tell me that Harry Potter would be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?!" Minerva McGonagall, usually very calm and subdued, erupted in question. She gestured wildly with her hands and started pacing back and forth in front of his desk. "You completely caught me by surprise, Albus! All of us had no idea. _I_ had no idea. If I had known, I might have-" Her eyes widened as she caught what she was about to say and immediately stopped.

Dumbledore looked at her curiously. "You might have what, Minerva?"

McGonagall's green eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. "I… I might have prepared better for his arrival! Set him up in bigger bedchambers… I don't know, I might have just done _something else_! His employment here at Hogwarts took us all by surprise and I do not appreciate that one bit, Albus!"

Dumbledore studied her carefully. In all their years working together at Hogwarts with their roles of Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress, they hardly had a discussion with such raised voices. Something was different this time, and Dumbledore knew it had more to do with Harry Potter _being_ at Hogwarts than his taking up of the position as professor.

"What is it about Mr. Potter being at Hogwarts that got you in such a tizzy, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked plainly.

McGonagall faltered and her shoulders sagged. Leave it to Albus to always figure things out. "I can't tell you, Albus."

"We've never had a lot of secrets between us." Dumbledore replied, his blue eyes probing for answers.

McGonagall met his gaze and shook her head sadly. "It's not my secret to tell."

For a moment, the two individuals just looked at each other. Both were wise and powerful in their own rite and both had been close friends for decades. They had endured multiple wars, death of loved ones and mutual friends, the sacking of Hogwarts, and the rebuilding of their beloved school yet here they were at an impasse about one man whom they both care for so much.

"I'm sorry about that. And I'm sorry for not telling you beforehand," Dumbledore whispered softly. "When Sirius and I asked him weeks ago he declined. It was only after our urging that he decided to consider the role and I did not hear an answer until yesterday. Sirius _was_ set to come back temporarily, but since Harry agreed he decided to start his retirement early."

McGonagall simply looked at him before giving a stiff nod.

A knock was heard on the office door making both heads turn.

"Ah, and that must be Mr. Potter. I asked him for tea after he was all settled in," Dumbledore said. "You may come in, Mr. Potter."

The door creaked open revealing the subject of their conversation. He was still dressed in Auror black though his body wasn't so rigid as it was during the assembly. Harry looked at the two professors and smiled. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Dumbledore looked at McGonagall.

"Not at all, Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied.

The man entered the room and closed the door behind him. McGonagall finally got her first good look of him. The last she had seen him before that night was months ago. He did not look a lot different physically, but she did notice a different air about him. He seemed… content, almost happy. There wasn't such a dark cloud around him anymore. She couldn't stop herself as she walked across the room and enveloped him in a hug.

"It's good to see you, Harry. It's good to see you _here_."

Harry put his arms around the witch and returned her hug. He understood what she meant. "It's good to see you too, Minerva."

Dumbledore watched the two from his desk with a small smile on his lips. Reunions like these were few and far in between and he wanted to capture every moment. His eyes clouded a bit as he remembered his conversation with the Transfiguration professor just minutes before. There's something she's hiding about why Harry Potter being at Hogwarts may not be a good thing. And while he won't push her now, he's determined to find out why later.

"Minerva, why don't you join us for tea?" Dumbledore asked. The embracing duo broke apart and the older witch nodded.

"I would love to, Albus."

The next hour and a half flew by quickly as the three old friends caught up with each others' lives. And after Minerva and Harry parted ways outside of the stone gargoyle, Minerva's pace quickened as she made her way towards her bedchambers.

She had a letter to write that night and she didn't even know where to begin.

* * *

Hermione woke up early Wednesday morning feeling restless. It was still dark outside, but she could not force herself back to sleep. Her whole day yesterday, after dropping James off at King's Cross and after going for tea with Rose, was spent working well into the night with her research. After nearly a month of searching and pouring over ancient Greek texts, it seemed like Hermione was finally onto something.

Yesterday afternoon she came across a Canadian news article about a recent break-in at the Royal Ontario Museum. Nothing seemed to have been taken, but reading the article did peak her curiosity on the current exhibits of the museum. Flexing her connections as researcher and historian, it didn't take very long for Hermione to get a full listing of the gallery items currently residing in the ROM. Reading over the list of items, Hermione's brain tried to look for something that stood out. That was when she came across an item listed as "Ningishzida staff" under the Mesopotamia exhibit. It was found in the ancient city of Lagash in present day Iraq on an excavation 23 years ago. The staff was old and the only one of its kind ever found. What caught Hermione's interest, however, was the physical description of the staff. It was described to be a single column with two serpents intertwined. The top of the column erupted into swan wings. Hermione flipped through her Greek texts until she was at a picture of Hermes. The messenger god was depicted in his usual form, wearing winged sandals, a winged cap, and on his right hand was a staff described exactly like she had just read. Hermes' caduceus. Hermione made a note to look further into the Ningishzida staff and her mind was already planning a trip to Canada to view it in person.

A light tapping on the kitchen window caught Hermione's attention. She stood and walked across the room, opening the latch of the window letting a small barn owl inside with a letter tied to its leg. It wasn't Athena, and it was far too soon for James to send her a letter anyway so she untied the letter cautiously. The owl nipped at her finger for a treat and hooted. She grabbed a biscuit and gave it to the animal. To her surprise, the owl stayed on her kitchen counter waiting for a reply.

Hermione carefully opened the envelope and gently pried the piece of parchment from inside. Unfolding it, she saw handwriting which she had not glimpsed since she was in school.

" _Dearest Hermione,_

 _I regret to be writing to you under these circumstances, but I cannot, in good conscience, avoid telling you what had transpired at Hogwarts. I do not know any other way to say this but to simply say it outright._

 _James had met Harry._

 _Unbeknownst to me, Harry was offered the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor by Albus due to Sirius' early retirement, and he had accepted. It was a last minute decision with Mr. Potter only accepting the role the day before school began._

 _If I had known… I would not have sent James an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Perhaps I would have recommended him to Madame Maxime for Beauxbatons instead. Regardless of the ifs, this is what had happened._

 _I am truly sorry, Hermione. I understood your decision to leave eleven years ago, and I will stand by whatever decision you make now. If you feel it necessary to pull James out of Hogwarts, please let me know as soon as possible so we can have his withdrawal processed. The owl will wait for your reply._

 _If, however, you choose to let him stay, then please know that your secret is still safe with me. You were one of my most cherished students, Hermione. And James… watching him grow up through those photographs you sent over the years has carved a special place in my heart for the young man. You two are important to me, so please know that despite whatever happens, I will stand by you._

 _Your friend,_

 _Minerva_ "

Hermione didn't know how long she stood by her kitchen window with the letter in her hand, her mind blank except for one echo.

James had met Harry.

James knew Harry.

Harry knew James.

James

Harry

James

Harry

Harry

Harry

The letter dropped from Hermione's hand and a choked sob escaped her body. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

Her worst fear had been realized and she had no idea how to proceed.

Pulling James out of Hogwarts was out of the question. Knowing her son, she knew that he would have fallen in love with the castle already. She wouldn't be surprised if he had already made friends. James belonged at Hogwarts and there was no way she would break his heart like that.

She could pretend that she didn't know Harry was at Hogwarts. She could make McGonagall's letter disappear and live in ignorance that her son was in constant interaction with his father, though unbeknownst to him. And when _Professor Potter_ was mentioned in letters, because she _knew_ James would write to her about his classes, she could live in denial and pretend that it's a different _Potter_. Hermione immediately shook her head and let those thoughts leave her brain. She wouldn't lie to her son.

That left her with one option.

She had to tell James.

And in turn, she had to tell Harry.

With a shaking hand, Hermione opened a drawer on the counter and fetched a piece of paper and a pen. She hurriedly scribbled a note and tied it to the owl's leg before all bravery left her. The owl hooted once before taking off through the open window. For a minute Hermione let herself watch the owl fly away until it disappeared into the east towards the rising sun.

As the owl flew away, Hermione sank to the kitchen floor and buried her head into her hands.

* * *

Author's Note: This was a slightly shorter chapter but I didn't think it was appropriate to put it with another. We finally find out who the second secret keeper was and we get a Hermione interlude! Many of you guessed right. :) Again, thank you very much for all of your comments and support on this story. I appreciate it a lot and it keeps me writing!


	9. Chapter 9

**respiciens** ( _verb_ )  
looking back

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Wednesday, September 2nd 2009

James' alarm clock chimed at exactly 6:45am, though he was already lying in bed awake before then. He bolted straight up with a grin on his face as he slammed a hand on top of the clock to silence it.

It was the first day of classes.

He surveyed his surroundings and found Nate and Teddy still snoring away on their beds to his right. Across the floor were three other beds lined up also with sleeping boys. James had met them - Christian, Jack, and Emanuel - last night during the feast. Jack was rather shy but nice, and the other two were fun and easy to talk to so James had high hopes for his new schoolmates.

"Guys! Wake up! It's the first day of classes!" James yelled.

Nate, having taken the bed between Teddy and James, rolled over on his front and buried his head in a pillow.

"It's too early," James heard Nate mumble from beneath the blankets.

"Go back to bed James." Jack said from across the room.

James could only grin at his friends. He had always been a morning person and he saw no reason to break his habit at Hogwarts. Besides, this meant there was no waiting to use their shared bathroom and he would have plenty of time to explore the castle before breakfast.

Shaking his head one last time, James headed into the first year's boys' bathroom to begin his day.

He showered quickly and put on his crisp school robes and by 7:05am James was strolling through the corridors. There were hardly any students out yet since breakfast was to be served at 7:30am which was also where their schedules were to be handed out and classes would begin an hour after.

He passed by the Great Hall and the Hospital Wing before turning left and onto the castle grounds. The sun was still low on the horizon as James made his way to the green. He had never been to a place so large before. To his left was a vast open space the size of a football field where at its far end nearest to the forest a large tree loomed. To his right was a pathway leading to another open space where he could glimpse a large field at its end with towering stands surrounding it. There were three tall hoops on either end of this field and James immediately recognized it as the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Without another thought, he began to walk towards the pitch not noticing a figure flying laps high above the ground.

* * *

Flying had always been one of Harry's greatest passions. He had never felt more free than up there on his broom with the wind blowing through his hair and the ground far below his feet. It's an escape from everything and everyone around him, where he could gather his thoughts and let his emotions run wild. As he flew above the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, Harry let his mind drift towards his new post as the Hogwarts Defence professor. He had never imagined himself as a teacher before. Professional Quidditch player, yes. Auror, definitely. But the thought of being a professor never crossed his mind, especially after the way he left Hogwarts.

'Fate is a funny thing,' Harry mused, as he circled back from the goalposts and headed towards the castle. On his way back, he decided to do a solo flying maneuver that he was taught as an Auror. He may be a professor now but he was still the Gryphons' commander. He had told his second in command, Lupin, that he was to be alerted of any urgent matters immediately. He couldn't let professorhood loosen him so keeping up with his training was extremely important. Crouching low and angling his broom upwards, Harry shot to the sky at a breathtaking speed. At the apex of his climb, Harry fell from his broom.

This was a dangerous move meant to surprise his pursuers who were also on broomsticks.

"Incendio! Accio broom!"

The Stormbreaker immediately shot towards Harry's hands as he continued to fall and the red flame fired into the empty sky above. With only a few metres between him and the ground, the broom finally reached his outstretched hand and with a practiced skill Harry mounted it mid-air. Immediately gaining control of the Stormbreaker, Harry continued on his way towards the castle.

As he approached the school, Harry saw a figure watching him from beneath the shade of an oak tree. It was the boy his godsons befriended the day before, James Watson. The skinny little figure approached Harry as he touched down onto the ground. James' eyes were wide open as was his mouth.

"That was absolutely brilliant," James breathed as the older man walked towards him with the Stormbreaker clutched in his right hand. Professor Potter was wearing what looked to be Quidditch robes and his cloak billowed behind in his approach.

Harry gave the boy a grin and ran his hand through his hair. "Brilliant as it may be, but it should _not_ be something to be attempted. I would never hear the end of it from Madame Hooch and Professor McGonagall, not to mention your parents."

James smiled at Professor Potter and nodded. "Yeah… my mum would kill me if she finds out I tried _that_. But don't worry Professor Potter, I don't even know how to fly!"

Harry smiled at the boy. He liked how at ease James was around him. Adults still found it difficult to talk to him. Children always looked at him with worship in their eyes. It was hard to come by anyone who would speak to him normally without thinking of his past, much less a kid. There was no hero-worship in the James' brown eyes and Harry felt himself relax. He liked this boy, and he was glad his godsons found a friend in him.

"You'll learn all about flying through Madame Hooch. She was the one who taught me."

"I'm most excited to learn about flying. I read all about the other Hogwarts subjects but for some reason, mum didn't have any books on flying. I reckon she didn't like to fly." James said with a small frown.

Harry laughed and gestured his head towards the castle and the two began their walk back. "Flying isn't everyone's cup of tea. It is one of my favourite things to do though."

"Say, Professor, did you play Quidditch? I recall Nate and Teddy saying the Chudley Cannons was one of the better Quidditch teams." James asked, gesturing towards the Quidditch kit Harry was wearing with the Cannons' logo but his last name on the back. The Cannons had given him his very own set of Quidditch robes for being a patron all these years, and Harry always looked towards an opportunity to wear them.

"I love Quidditch. I was the Seeker for the Gryffindor team whilst I was in school and Ron - that's Nate's dad - played Keeper. We always try to watch games together when I'm in town." Harry answered with a smile, the memory of them winning the Hogwarts Quidditch cup entering his mind.

"Wow. I think I'd like to play Quidditch. Nate and Teddy made it seem so fantastic when they told me about it yesterday."

Harry grinned at the boy as they approached the door leading to the Great Hall. The castle had finally woken up and students and faculty members alike were making their way to breakfast before the start of classes. Harry faced James and nodded towards the Great Hall.

"You better go on in to have breakfast and get your class schedule. I should probably freshen up first - classes to teach and all that." Harry said.

James grinned at the man and nodded his head. "It was great talking to you Professor. Have a good day."

Harry returned his smile. "You too, James. And if you ever want to talk flying or Quidditch or anything at all, feel free to come see me."

The boy nodded his head affirmative and with a small wave, turned and walked into the Great Hall. Harry watched as he sat on the Gryffindor table before turning and making his way towards his bedchambers.

* * *

It was nearing 8am when Nate and Teddy finally joined James for breakfast. They weren't quite awake yet and flopped on either side of James without saying a thing. Clearly his new friends weren't morning persons. Since James had already finished breakfast, he had his Transfiguration book in front of him and he watched Nate and Teddy pile food onto their plates. After taking a couple spoonfuls, Nate and Teddy finally mumbled their good mornings.

"Well good morning to you too." James answered with a smirk and flipped his textbook.

"How can you be so bright and cheerful at this godforsaken hour?" Nate asked in disbelief.

James just shrugged. "Mum's a morning person. Guess I got it from her."

"Mr. Lupin, Mr. Watson, Mr. Weasley - good morning. Here are your class schedules." They heard from the side. Turning their heads, they saw Professor McGonagall with slips of paper floating beside her. At her words, three zoomed in front of each of the boys and lowered to the table. "I expect to see you three in Transfiguration on time." With a nod, she continued on her way down the Gryffindor table.

James picked up his schedule and read.

 _ **Monday**_

 _First: Transfiguration  
_ _Third: Defence Against the Dark Arts  
_ _Fifth: Flying_

 _ **Tuesday**_

 _First/Second: Potions  
_ _Third: Charms  
_ _Fourth: History of Magic  
_ _Fifth: Herbology_

 _ **Wednesday**_

 _First: Transfiguration  
_ _Second: Charms  
_ _Third: Defence Against the Dark Arts  
_ _Fourth: Care of Magical Creatures  
_ _Fifth: Flying_

 _ **Thursday**_

 _First/Second: Potions  
_ _Third: Charms  
_ _Fourth: Herbology  
_ _Night: Astronomy_

 _ **Friday**_

 _First: Transfiguration  
_ _Third: Defence Against the Dark Arts  
_ _Fourth: Care of Magical Creatures_

Nate groaned. "Double potions on the mornings of Tuesdays and Thursdays?!"

Teddy could only shrug. "At least our afternoons are more fun."

"Of course you would think classes are fun."

James shook his head as the two boys began to bicker over their meals. Tuning them out, he continued his reading of Emeric Switch's _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. " _When Transfiguring, it is important to make firm and decisive wand movements. Do not wiggle or twirl your wand unnecessarily, or the Transfiguration will certainly be unsuccessful…"_

Up at the Head Table, Professor McGonagall took her seat on the deputy's chair next to Dumbledore's after finishing distributing the Gryffindors' class schedules. Dumbledore gave her a nod and a smile and continued eating his usual breakfast consisting of cereal and toast with marmalade.

A hoot was heard throughout the Great Hall and a small barn owl with a letter tied to its leg flew from the owls' opening on the ceiling and landed in front of McGonagall. _Accio_ -ing an owl treat, she gave the owl its due and quickly untied the letter. It fluttered away and she was left with the letter in her hands.

She knew exactly what this letter was and she debated for a short while whether or not to read it then and there. Her curiosity got the better of her and she unfurled the parchment open.

" _Dearest Professor McGonagall,_

 _Thank you for your letter. I am sorry that I had put you in the position to even have to write such a letter, but I greatly appreciate your honesty and your thoughtfulness. Thank you for being such a steadfast friend._

 _Regarding the matter at hand… there's only one thing I could do that is right and so I have decided that it is best for James to stay at Hogwarts. And, because of this, I have decided that I will tell him. Over Christmas holidays, I will tell James about his father._

 _Thus I have decided that I will tell Harry too._

 _I won't lie… I'm scared, Professor McGonagall. I had gotten used to the life I - and James - live and I know all of that will change once I tell them the truth._

 _I can only hope that they'll understand and forgive me in time._

 _\- HG"_

McGonagall folded the paper and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her gaze drifted across the hall and onto the laughing trio sat on the Gryffindor table.

Daniel James Watson.

Harry Potter's son.

Soon, the father and son would learn of each other's existence. Then the entire Wizarding World would know also, of that she had no doubt. It would not be easy, especially for one who would be considered as Harry Potter's bastard child. She understood why Hermione chose to do what she did. The Wizarding World wasn't exactly kind to Hermione whilst she was at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall doubted that others would have been supportive had they found out Hermione was pregnant with The Saviour's child after a one night affair. The child would have been borne into scandal and infamy. It would not have been a pleasant environment to raise a child at all, no, so Professor McGonagall saw where Hermione was coming from when she said she wanted to leave.

But what Minerva failed to make Hermione see was that Harry Potter would have been there for her every step of the way. It was his child too, after all; and Harry, had he known about her pregnancy, would _not_ have let anything happen to his _best friend_ and his child. It would be Harry and Hermione against the world like it had always been. But Hermione was insistent that Harry deserved a life free of stress and scandal and obligation and that he deserved to live in bliss and in love with Ms. Weasley that Minerva had to relent. So with a heavy heart, she decided to be one of Hermione's secret keepers with Ollivander and the two older wizards performed a very complex _Evanesco Maxima_ on Hermione to hide her from the wizarding world until she saw it fit to be found.

She remembered that night clearly; when she first found out about the baby. It was the night before the celebratory feast. She had a long day taking care of preparations for the feast for when hundreds would descend upon the castle. It was late in the evening when she found herself finished with her tasks and decided to take a walk around the castle grounds to relax. That was when she came across Hermione.

The girl was sat by herself underneath a tree along the side of the Great Lake. She was unmoving and silent and only gave a look of acknowledgement when Minerva took a seat on the grass next to her. For minutes they sat there with no words exchanged until Minerva asked Hermione how she was doing after the battle. That was when the dam broke and tears spilled from Hermione's eyes while the truth slipped from her mouth.

Through her tears, Hermione told Minerva how and why she needed to leave. Minerva almost couldn't believe her ears when Hermione said she was pregnant with _Harry's_ baby but the anguish and pain she could see in Hermione made her believe. She was convinced that leaving the wizarding world would be best for her baby. When Minerva asked if she had told Harry, Hermione said no. She saw Harry and Ginny together, she explained, and he looked happy. She didn't want to come in between that so telling Harry was out of the question. Besides, he already had to fulfill so many obligations in his life that she didn't want to add to his burden.

Minerva tried her hardest to argue with the young girl. She said that it was Harry's baby too; he needed to know. But Hermione did not give. She said that it was _her_ mistake, _her_ fault that she got pregnant. It was _her_ who forgot to cast the infertility spell and it was _her_ who assured Harry it was alright. This was caused entirely by her slip and so who was she to burden Harry with the consequence of _her_ mistake? No, she couldn't do that, she said. She loved him too much and already she loved her baby so much too. The only option was for her to leave.

Minerva asked her if she had thought about how Harry would feel when he finds out she was gone. At this, the girl grew silent again. Eventually she said, " _I'm only one person, Professor McGonagall. He will hurt for a while but… he would eventually forget. He would still have Ron, and… and Ginny. Sirius and Remus would be there to guide him. He won't need me._ "

Minerva wished she had a crystal ball to show Hermione just how wrong she was.

* * *

"Minerva, is everything alright?" The woman snapped out of her daze to catch the backs of the trio as they exited the Great Hall to head to their first class. Professor McGonagall turned her head towards Professor Dumbledore who was looking at her curiously.

"Yes, Albus. Everything's alright." ' _I hope,'_ she added wordlessly. With a nod goodbye, Professor McGonagall rose from her chair and followed the crowd of students out of the Great Hall and towards class.

* * *

Author's Note: Apologies for the late update on this one but life had been busy! This was the chapter that I kind of wanted to put with the last one but felt they were better separate. I know that it might not be what you wanted to read (I know how anxious you are for H and H to finally meet!), but I hope it gave more insight on what Hermione was feeling and thinking before she left. I can also promise that the next few chapters won't be so angsty! We'll get to James' first experience in his classes and some more plot points will get rolling! Again, thank you for all of your reviews and comments and I sincerely hope you continue on this journey with me!


	10. Chapter 10

**reneo** ( _verb_ ) **  
**untangle

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

James watched as the second hand on his mechanical watch ticked towards the 12. At precisely 8:30am, Professor McGonagall strode inside the classroom. The class of Hogwarts first year students from all four Houses were silent as they watched her walk down the centre aisle and towards the front of the room. Desks holding three students each lined the aisle and James could feel Nate tense from next him as the stern woman passed beside. James had wanted to sit at the very front of the classroom, but at Nate's insistence he, Nate, and Teddy sat at a desk at the middle of the room instead. James also noticed that the students seemed to have sat themselves according to their Houses. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws sat at the front half of the classroom with the aisle in between, while the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs mirrored their arrangement at the back. James hoped it wouldn't stay this way for the whole school year - he wanted to make friends outside of his House too. He looked across the aisle and caught the glance of a blonde haired Ravenclaw witch sitting with her friends. He gave her a smile and after a second of holding his eyes, she smiled back.

Professor McGonagall took a moment to survey her new class of bright and eager students. She could see that most were alert and perhaps a little scared. There was a handful of students who looked like they were ready to go back to bed. She could count in one hand how many students looked at ease in her classroom.

"Welcome to Transfiguration." She said in a clear voice. All backs were straightened and the first years gave her their full attention. "Can anyone tell me what Transfiguration is?"

No one in class raised their hands. James bit his lip as his hand trembled to raise upwards.

McGonagall gave a wry smile. "Surely at least one of you know what you are doing here."

At her remark students started raising their hand, amongst them James, Teddy, and the Ravenclaw girl from across the aisle.

"Go on, Ms. Green."

The Ravenclaw girl, Eleanor Green, bit her lip as she raised from her seat. In a soft, slightly shaky voice, she answered. "Transfiguration is a type of magic that changes the form or appearance of an object or a person."

McGonagall smiled. "There is no need to be nervous, Ms. Green, for you are exactly correct. Five points to Ravenclaw."

Eleanor just about beamed as she sat down on her desk. Her seatmates gave her encouraging smiles and she looked across the aisle to see James giving her a wide grin.

"Like Ms. Green said, Transfiguration magic can change the form or appearance of anything. It is some of _the_ most complex and dangerous magic you will ever learn here at Hogwarts and so it demands your full attention. Anyone, and I mean _anyone_ , messing around in my class will not be coming back. Do I make myself clear?" Everyone in the room nodded. "Good. Now take out your textbooks and turn to chapter one. Before you learn any Transfiguration or _Untransfiguration_ spells, it is important to _know_ when an object or person has been transfigured. _Revelio_ is a revealing spell that does just this…"

* * *

James emerged from the Charms classroom in the east wing three hours later with his bag heavy with notes and his right hand stained with ink. Professor Flitwick had given them a very thorough lesson on what Charms was. "Charms is different from Transfiguration," he said. "A charm will _add_ properties to a person or an object, while Transfiguration will _change_ it to something completely different." He promised that in the next lesson there will be more wand-waving and less note-taking and James could hardly wait.

The three boys made their way to the Great Hall for lunch while chatting about their afternoon lessons.

"Hey Weasel, Chameleon," a deep voice called from the side.

A boy of fourteen years old was leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed at his front. He had auburn hair and bright blue eyes and a sly grin on his face. His uniform bore the Slytherin logo and he sported a Prefect's badge.

Teddy and Nate returned the boy's smile and led James in his direction.

"Hey Drew, how's it going?" Teddy asked.

"Oh you know, just trying to keep you first years out of trouble. Hope I won't have to take any points from you guys this year." Drew replied with a wink.

"Ha! You wish. Gryffindor will win the House cup, you can bet on that!" Nate replied haughtily.

Drew snickered. "Who's your friend there?" He asked, finally settling his icy blue eyes on James.

James held his gaze and extended his right hand. "Daniel James Watson, though everyone calls me James. Pleasure to meet you."

Drew nodded his head and gripped his hand tight for a shake. "Andrew Christopher Wood, but I go by Drew."

"He's my cousin," Nate said.

Drew snorted. " _Fake_ cousin, Weasel. I shudder to think what would happen if we're actually related."

Nate rolled his eyes. "Fine, he's my _fake_ cousin. His dad is good friends with my family." He explained and James nodded. Drew, being taller than Nate, gripped him in a headlock under his arm and ruffled his hair. Nate tried to squirm away. "Ugh, cut it out Drew!"

"You talk _so_ much Weasel. Don't you ever get tired of your voice? I know I do." Drew replied, finally letting go of Nate who rushed away from his side. Teddy and James watched the display with mirth in their eyes and tried to keep their laughter at bay.

"So, did any one of you know Uncle Harry was gonna be the new DADA professor?" Drew asked. He ushered the group further down the hall and away from the traffic by the door.

Teddy shook his head in the negative. "Nope, dad or mum didn't say anything. We spoke to Uncle Harry last night after dinner and he said this was all last minute."

"Damn - I didn't get a chance to talk to him yet because of Prefect's duties and I haven't had his class yet."

"We haven't either; Defence is after lunch," Nate said.

Drew rubbed his chin and gazed into the distance thoughtfully. "Mmm.. I wonder why he did this. It's so strange. Dad was just saying that he hadn't seen Uncle Harry in games in a while because he's so busy with work."

"Whatever his reasons are I'm glad he's here! Can you imagine what he could teach us?!" Nate said enthusiastically.

"It's not like you'll be learning any complicated spells or anything. You're still a first year." Drew said bluntly. "But the fourth year DADA class on the other hand… now I can imagine _that_ being fun!"

Nate sent him a glare. "Whatever. I'm sure his class would be great even if we don't learn anything too complex."

"I saw him cast a really complicated looking spell today." James said. All six eyes turned to his direction and he went on. "I was walking through the grounds this morning and I saw him flying. He was so fast and so high up in the air and then he suddenly fell." All six eyes bugged. "So I ran towards him but then he summoned his broom and created this huge fireball that lit up the sky right where he just was and the next thing I know he was on his broom again and touching back down." James finished in one breath.

Drew let out a whistle. "I wish I could've seen that."

"It was frightening and bloody brilliant at the same time." James said with wide eyes.

Teddy furrowed his brows. "That sounds like an Auror maneuver to me. Dad would talk about it - it's part of their training and it's really difficult and dangerous."

"Just because he's a professor now doesn't mean he can slack off," Nate said thoughtfully. "Uncle Harry's still an Auror through and through."

The boys nodded in agreement and walked towards the Great Hall for lunch.

James, Nate, and Teddy sat with Drew's fourth year friends for their meal. James thought it would be weird to sit with the older kids, but he was pleasantly surprised at how welcoming the entire group was. They weren't all Slytherins either; Drew seemed to be pretty popular across all of the four Houses and he had friends in all of them. Thus, the far corner of the Slytherin table nearest to the Head table had an array of students from all Houses.

The lunch discussion was light and easygoing. They were talking about the first Hogsmeade visit and Drew promised Nate he would pick up some Tongue Twisting Toffees from the Hogsmeade WWW since first years weren't allowed to leave the castle. James was content with listening to them talk as he ate and the conversation slowly drifted to the Defence class again.

"Hey firsties, have you guys had your DADA class yet?" Drew's best friend and fellow Slytherin Prefect Collin Anderson asked. Collin towered over everyone at the table and played Keeper for the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Teddy shook his head. "Not yet. It's right after lunch."

Amy Song, Ravenclaw beauty and also a Prefect, piped in. "Do tell us how that goes. I can't wait to have Professor Potter in class."

Riley Everett, Slytherin girl and Collin's girlfriend, rolled her eyes and jabbed Amy's side. "Amy here hasn't stopped talking about Harry Potter since he showed up last night."

"Oh shut up Riley, it's not like you were any better. It's exciting having such a celebrity here at Hogwarts." Amy retorted.

Riley settled her blue eyes on Nate and Teddy. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and asked, "How's it like having _the_ Harry Potter as your godfather?" At her question, the rest of the table save from Drew and James leaned forward expecting an answer.

At seeing the boys' discomfort, Drew raised his hand and shook his head. "Stop interrogating them Riley."

"Oh you're no fun, Drew. But come on, not all of us is lucky enough to associate with _The Saviour_. How is it like having him as family?" Amy said.

James could see Drew's mouth set in a line and Nate and Teddy looked at each other in discomfort. It's clear to James that they didn't want to talk about this at all.

"Nate, Teddy, our DADA class is about to start in fifteen minutes. Drew, do you mind showing us how to get to the classroom?" James piped. Drew gave a nod and the four boys rose from their seats. With a small wave, they made their way out of the Great Hall.

There was a slight tension in the air as the four boys walked to the north tower where the Defence class would be taking place. No one said a word for a minute as they mulled over their thoughts.

"Hey James, thanks for getting us out of there." Teddy said breaking the silence.

Nate seemed to grab onto this cue and he erupted. "I _hate_ it when people pry about Uncle Harry. Can't they just leave him alone?"

James hesitated for a bit but something Riley said nagged at him. "Guys, what did Riley mean when she called him The Saviour?"

The three boys gave a start and they stopped in their tracks. Wide-eyed, the three boys looked at James. "Bloody hell, I forget that you're a Muggleborn and don't know about these things!" Nate exclaimed.

James shrugged. "Is he famous then?"

Drew led the boys to an empty classroom and closed the door behind him. He made James sit on an empty chair and the boys gathered around him. They all shared a look and James saw the silent approval between the cousins before they turned their eyes back onto him.

"James, have you ever heard about the Battle of Hogwarts?" Teddy asked.

A light of recognition shone in James' eyes as he recalled the section in his History of Magic textbook all about this battle and the events leading up to it. It spoke of a Dark Wizard named Voldemort who tried to kill a baby boy only to have the spell rebound and almost kill him. He was so weakened by the spell that he went into hiding for years. The boy, thereby referred to as the Boy Who Lived, survived the night but was marked by a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He lost his parents that night to the hands of Voldemort and he was then raised by his Muggle aunt and uncle who despised all things magical. While he was reading, James felt like he could relate to the Boy Who Lived, since he too did not know he was a wizard until just before Hogwarts. The chapter went to detail how the Boy Who Lived met his two best friends at Hogwarts, referred to by the book as The King and the Brightest Witch. There was a chapter dedicated to all of their seven years at Hogwarts and a separate chapter altogether on the final battle. James remembered feeling so triumphant as he read about The Defeat in the textbook and he couldn't believe that it only took place just about a mere decade ago. He ended up rereading that chapter and delighted that the Boy Who Lived became the Man Who Saved.

"Yes, I remember reading about that in the History of Magic textbook. It was about the Boy Who Lived who then became the Man Who Saved… wait a minute." James said, his eyes growing wide as the pieces fell into place.

Drew nodded his head wisely and crossed his arms. "Exactly. The Man Who Saved. _The Saviour_. That's Uncle Harry."

"The book didn't mention his name at all!" James exclaimed. "I read that section fully but I did not read anything about _Harry Potter_."

"He didn't want his name in anymore publications… so he made it happen." Teddy said with a shrug.

"So him being the Boy Who Lived and then the Man Who Saved… his best friends the King and the Brightest Witch, hunting for Horcruxes, riding dragons… he did all of those things?" James asked in disbelief.

Nate nodded grimly. "It sounds great, I know, but… it's also terrible. People forget that so many people died during the war. And they were only _kids_ for Merlin's sake! My dad - he's who they call The King - told me they had to grow up so fast during then. Every year they were in school there was an attempt at Uncle Harry's life. They didn't even get a seventh year here at Hogwarts! They never got to experience a normal childhood…" Nate's blue eyes clouded over.

James' mind whirled as he processed this new information. No wonder people were so intrigued by the new professor. He thought last night it was because Harry Potter was an Auror (and an accomplished one at that, based on what he'd heard) that people were whispering about him. But no, his Auror qualification seemed like such a small blip when held up against the fact that _he saved the entire wizarding world_. 'And all before he was an adult,' James thought grimly, recalling the section that said the Man Who Saved was barely a man at seventeen.

James eyed the three boys who all had troubled look on their faces. He knew from their previous interactions that their families were involved in the war in one way or another since Harry Potter seemed to be an integral part of their brood.

"I'm sorry you guys have to deal with all of those questions," James said.

Teddy raised his eyes and gave James a small smile. "We learned to just ignore them. They usually don't mean any harm… they're just curious."

Drew nodded his head. "Our parents have it way worse than we do," he stated as a matter-of-fact.

James bit his lip. "It must really suck to always be reminded of the past since people can't keep their questions to themselves."

Nate simply shrugged and looked down at his watch. His eyes bugged when he saw the time. "Bloody hell! Five minutes til class! We'll be late!"

The four boys quickly rushed out of the empty classroom with Drew leading the way to the first year Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

James, Nate, and Teddy quickly found their way to the north tower with the skillful navigation of Drew. He bid the younger boys goodbye and headed to the library to prep for Herbology.

* * *

The three entered the classroom and breathed a sigh of relief that Professor Potter wasn't yet in class. The layout of this classroom wasn't unlike that of the Transfiguration classroom. There were desks for three each set up on either side of the aisle. What differed though was the front of the room. The Transfiguration classroom had rows of chalkboard whilst the Defense class had a table in the middle with a tower of books to the side. The boys made their way to the only remaining desk at the very back corner of the classroom nearest the wall.

Immediately James could feel the buzz in the room. All of the first years were whispering to each other and casting glances to the door waiting in anticipation for the arrival of their new professor. They didn't have to wait long, since with only one minute into the class the classroom door opened and in came Professor Potter.

James could see that he had changed from his Quidditch robes that morning and into a more formal attire. He wore fitted black pants tucked into black boots and a crisp white top. He had on a dark red waistcoat over his shirt and had brushed his hair to the side. James could now see that infamous lightning bolt scar maring his forehead. Perched on his nose were dark rimmed glasses and his black cloak flowed from his shoulders as he walked down the middle aisle. James thought he looked very much like an expert duelist he had seen in textbooks.

All eyes followed his movements until he stopped in front of the desk and turned to face the class. Harry took a moment to look around the room. All students were present, it seemed, since there were no empty seats in his class. _His class_. He still couldn't quite believe that he's a professor now and what he had signed up for was finally dawning on him as he looked at the eager faces of the first years looking at him with anticipation.

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts," he began. "In this class you will learn how to defend yourselves against dark creatures, dark charms, and the Dark Arts… if I don't budge up." He said with a smile. He was rewarded by scattered laughter across the room. "I'll be honest with you - this is my first time teaching. Some might say I taught before because of the DA in my fifth year but… that was _in my fifth year_. I was a bloody student and had no idea what I was doing!" More outright laughter and giggles flowed through the room.

"My goal for this class is to teach you what I wish _I_ had known whilst I was in school. A lot of… things happened while I was here at Hogwarts and quite frankly I would not be here if not for the help of my best friends," he said. The room quieted for they knew what he was talking about. "I was unprepared for many things while I was a student and my wish is for you to be the _exact opposite_. I want you to be able to recognize dark magic, defend yourself against dark magic, and, if it's absolutely necessary, _dispel_ that dark magic." The intensity in his emerald eyes shone and James could almost hear a pin drop in the room for it grew so quiet.

"Can anyone tell me what is _the_ most important thing you need to defend yourself against the dark?" Harry asked. He waited for a moment and saw only one hand raised at the far corner of the classroom. "Mr. Watson."

James expelled the breath he was holding and stood up to address the professor. "Your _wand,_ sir."

Harry nodded. "That's right," he said. A tick went by and he added, "Do you know what exactly a wand is and what it does?"

James' brows furrowed as he thought carefully about his answer. "A wand… is a tool that is meant to channel one's magic. All witches and wizards have magic in them, but only the very powerful ones can perform wandless magic. A wand makes spellcasting easier since it gathers your magic to a single point."

Harry smiled and nodded. "That's exactly right. Five points to Gryffindor!" James beamed before sitting back down, his elation evident on his face. Nate and Teddy gave him congratulatory nudges before they all turned their attention back to the professor.

Harry was walking across the front when he pulled out his wand and held it up in between two fingers to show to the class. "This is _my_ wand. Like Mr. Watson said, it allows me to channel all of my magic into this single point so that I can cast spells and enchantments. Since a wand is so important to a witch or wizard, they are usually made with substances that reflect the personality of their user. That is why wands are hardly ever shared. A wand becomes an extension of you; it becomes a part of you." He paused for a moment to look at the bright young faces watching him eagerly. "That is why it is essential to know what _your_ own wand is made of. You need to _understand_ this part of you."

"Undoubtedly the most important piece of your wand is its core. Wand cores are made of magical substances, substances which are mostly from magical creatures. Can anybody name some wand cores?" Harry asked. At his question, multiple hands raised from the group of first years.

"Go on, Mr. Snyde."

A tall, rather broad-shouldered boy with dark black hair and a pointy nose rose from his seat. "Unicorn hair," he said.

"That's right. Unicorn hair is one of the most commonly used cores and produces wands with the most consistent magic. Anyone else?"

Multiple hands raised and Harry called on students one by one. He provided an explanation of the cores after they gave their answers.

"Phoenix feather," Nate answered.

"Dragon heartstring."

"Kneazle whiskers."

"Thunderbird feather."

"Basilisk horn," Teddy said.

Harry nodded his head and commented that there was only one known case of this core being used and that was in Salazar Slytherin's wand. "Anyone else?" He asked the first years.

James hand slowly raised to answer. He had kept his hand down before during the discussion since he expected one of his classmates would call out his wand core, but no one did. Harry glanced at his corner of the room and called his name. Standing, James said, "Hippogriff wingfeather."

This wasn't an answer Harry expected to hear. Harry paused for a second and narrowed his eyes in thought. Hippogriff wingfeather wasn't a very common core at all; and as far as he was aware, Ollivander was the first wandmaker to make such a wand. He remembered his visit to Diagon Alley when he bought his new broom that summer and his conversation with Ollivander. He had wanted to see the wand Ollivander made with Buckbeak's feather but the man said it sold earlier that day. He couldn't remember the name Ollivander said but what were the chances that this boy had purchased the wand? He held his suspicions in place.

Harry smiled. "That's right, Mr. Watson," Harry said and James sat back down. "Wands with hippogriff feather cores are rare since not only are hippogriffs hard to find but they also don't let any witch or wizard come close to them. They're regal creatures and fiercely loyal, but it is difficult to gain one's trust. Only feathers surrendered willingly by hippogriffs contain magic and they don't do that lightly."

James digested this new information about his wand and was in awe at how seemingly rare it was. He listened in rapt attention and diligently made notes as Professor Potter continued with the class.

After the hour and a half was over, James and his friends packed up their quills and parchments to head to their second last class of the day, Care of Magical Creatures. There was a buzz in the room as the first years discussed the lesson they just had. Professor Potter was a great instructor, and he held the attention of all students throughout the lesson. James could hear whispers from other students as they discussed the make of their wands with their friends.

As James, Nate, and Teddy were about to exit the room, James heard a voice from the front of the room call his name. "Mr. Watson, could you please stay for a moment?" Professor Potter asked. James gave him a curious look while Nate mouthed that they would wait for him outside.

James approached the front of the class where Professor Potter was stood leaning against the desk. He had a kind look on his face that put James at ease. Harry gave him a smile. "I'm sorry for keeping you behind, but I wanted to ask you a question. When did you get your wand?"

James' brows wrinkled as he tried to remember the day he and his mum went to Diagon Alley. His brown eyes glinted when he remembered. "It was a Saturday in mid-July. I got my wand from Mr. Ollivander. But why do you ask, sir?"

Harry's green eyes filled with light and he smiled broadly when his suspicions were proven true. "I also was at Diagon Alley that day, and I had visited Ollivander since I wanted to see a wand that he was making that I had helped him with. You see, he wanted to experiment with new wand cores and asked me if I could get him a hippogriff wingfeather. And I did."

James' eyes widened. His right hand instinctively went to his pocket where his wand was stored. "You mean to say the core of my wand came from you, sir?"

"Well, not from _me_ , exactly," Harry said with a small laugh. "But from my hippogriff, Buckbeak."

"You have a hippogriff?!" James gasped in question.

Harry smiled. "Buckbeak's more like a family member. He helped me rescue my godfather back in my third year," Harry said, his eyes slightly cloudy as he thought back to Buckbeak's flight. That was one of the shining and most unforgettable moments of his life, when he and Hermione flew on Buckbeak's back. It was a memory he would never forget. "If you don't mind… may I see your wand?"

With no hesitation, James unpocketed his wand and handed it to his professor. Harry grasped the handle gently and a warmth so soothing filled his body. He smiled. "It's beautiful. Ollivander did a great job with this wand and Buckbeak would be happy to know his feather is encased in this. Did Ollivander tell you what the wood is made out of?" Harry asked, tracing the intertwined hilt.

James nodded. "Mr. Ollivander said it was made from two redwood trees that grew so close together they fused into one."

"Amazing, I've never seen something like this before," Harry breathed. "Thank you for letting me see it, Mr. Watson." He handed the wand back to James.

James grinned broadly and his brown eyes shone. "No problem at all, Professor! I should head to Care of Magical Creatures now, so I'll see you later. Have a good afternoon!" Harry nodded and with a small wave, James turned on his heel and walked out of the class.

Harry smiled to himself when he was alone. He felt relieved that the wand with Buckbeak's feather went to good hands. He couldn't help himself, but this boy, this Daniel James Watson, was someone he was quickly growing fond of. He had also solved the mystery of why the boy looked so familiar. Harry remembered it now, but James was also the boy he saw peering into the window of Broomstix that day in Diagon Alley. That was why that face looked so familiar, he reasoned. He had seen James before, albeit briefly, before they had met at Hogwarts.

Yet as Harry prepared for the fifth years that were slowly trickling into the room, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had seen those chocolate brown eyes from somewhere else before.


	11. Chapter 11

**"Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non** **ponitur**."  
"We choose to love, we do not choose to stop loving."

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

The first three weeks of classes flew by quickly and James fell into the rhythm of school. He would spend most of his time with his two best friends (for Nate and Teddy were surely now his best friends) and, surprisingly, Professor Potter. When the castle was still sleeping in the wee hours of the morning, James and Professor Potter would already be up. It's usual for the older man to be seen flying over the Quidditch pitch and James, during his morning walk around the castle grounds, would always come across him. The two would catch up, either talking about how James' classes were going or Quidditch, before they would re-enter the school and go their separate ways to begin their day with the rest of Hogwarts.

James loved his morning chats with the professor. What he had learned from the boys that first day of class didn't colour his opinion of Harry Potter. James was taught by his mum that one's past did not define their present and certainly would not define their futures; and so he chose to approach Harry Potter the same way. To James, Harry Potter wasn't _Harry Potter_. Professor Potter was witty, smart, and very easy to talk to. He did not make James feel like a child which many adults tend to do. To James, he was simply a professor at Hogwarts who was quickly becoming someone James deeply admired and respected.

It was the third Saturday of September and James was sat on his bed early that morning penning a letter to his mum. It was her 29th birthday and he wanted to send her his love and well wishes. He woke up much earlier than usual since he wanted to get her letter owled as early as possible. Putting on his sweater and shoes, James grabbed his letter and an owl treat for Athena and quietly padded out of the boys' dormitory and towards the owlery.

The hallways were quiet as James made his way to the West Tower where the owlery was located. He glanced at his wristwatch and saw that it was only half past five in the morning. Furthermore, it was a Saturday so there would be no classes for the day. There were no students, professors, or ghosts in the hallways (even Mrs. Norris wasn't in sight) and James revelled in the silence.

The past three weeks had been a whirlwind. His lessons were eye-opening and everyday he's more in awe of what he's being taught. Instead of learning about the Pythagorean theorem in his Maths class (for this was part of the Year 7 curriculum), he's taught how to ride a broom! And speaking of broom, James was surprised at himself for being quite _good_ at riding it. He hadn't expected this, especially since broom-riding didn't even come to mind until he was on the Hogwarts Express. But James' confidence made him quite the figure on the broom. His fellow first years didn't seem to perform well under pressure. When Madam Hooch had asked the Gryffindors to individually fly through the Quidditch hoops and back, many didn't do the task as quickly or as effortlessly as James did. They were scared of being scrutinized by their classmates or of falling off their brooms. On the other hand, James (who spent summers playing England's favourite past time - football), wasn't fazed by the task so he did it effortlessly. He was commended by Madam Hooch and at the end of the lesson she even encouraged him to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

James was still trying to decide if trying out for Quidditch was something he wanted to do. He knew it would be a lot of commitment; with practices to attend and games to play. His classes were already challenging enough (don't even get him started on Potions), that he wondered if he could handle Quidditch on top of all of that. Still, the idea of being part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team pleased him. He wanted to make the most of his time here at Hogwarts, and joining an organized sport (which seemed to be the only sport in the wizarding world, now that he thought about it) was in line with this mission. Nate and Teddy were also very encouraging about trying out and said that if he does it, then they will try out with him.

He decided that he would ask his mum for her opinion on the matter and was relieved that he had included in his letter that he wanted to use the two-way mirror with her later that night. They haven't had the opportunity to communicate via the mirrors yet but they wrote letters to each other frequently.

Finally reaching the West Tower, James made the slow climb to the very top where the owlery was located. Pushing open the wooden doors, James was greeted by chirps and feathers and he quickly made his way to Athena's stoop. His precious bird was still sleeping so he stroked her feathers gently rousing her awake. Her big eyes opened and she looked at him as if judging him for interrupting her slumber. James continued to stroke her feathers and reached into his pocket with his other hand to grab the treat.

"I'm sorry for waking you up early, girl, but it's mum's birthday today. Can you please deliver this letter for me?" James asked, showing Athena the letter and the treat.

The bird begrudgingly shook herself awake and extended a clawed foot to James. James grinned and tied the letter to Athena's leg and gave her the owl treat. The owl hooted and nipped at James fingers to secure her treat. James extended an arm out and Athena hopped onboard.

He led the eagle-owl to the large window carved from the stone wall of the owlery. The hatch was already opened and James was greeted with a view of the Hogwarts grounds with the Forbidden Forest to one side and the Great Lake on the other. No matter how many times James had seen this view, it never failed to make his breath catch. Hogwarts was _huge_ and James marvelled at the many unexplored places he had yet to discover.

"Fly fast, girl," James whispered and Athena hopped off his arm and flew east towards the rising sun. James watched the bird until he could no longer see her over the horizon. Glancing at his watch, he found that it was only ten past 6 and therefore not yet time for breakfast. Deciding that he didn't want to go back to his dormitories, James walked down the North Tower and towards the castle grounds.

Fall had already creeped in and there was a chill in the air as James walked his usual route around the castle. He really wasn't expecting to come across Professor Potter this morning since he had noticed the man would usually sleep in on the weekends, yet there he was on his broom flying over the Quidditch pitch once again. Looking forward to another chat and wanting to ask Professor Potter for his opinion on trying out for Quidditch, James changed his direction and headed towards the Quidditch pitch.

* * *

Harry woke up that morning very much aware of the date. If he was to be honest with himself, he really didn't need any waking up since he barely slept a wink that night. It was a Saturday. It was the 19th of September. It was _her_ birthday.

He was tossing and turning the whole night with his head filled with thoughts of Hermione Granger. This always happened around her birthday. For the rest of the year he tried hard to not think about her but he allowed himself this one day to lose himself in memories.

He remembered when they first met on the train. She had always been so smart and he was so thankful (and, truthfully, a little scared) when she whipped out her wand to fix his broken glasses. He had been in awe of her since then but he kept a distance since it was obvious Ron and her didn't get along. That all changed when they saved her from the troll, of course, and he was so grateful that he'd earned a new friend. She proved to be much more than a friend and soon Harry was proud to say that he had two _best_ friends. How lucky was he? They were the Golden Trio that day forward and Harry felt like he truly belonged.

Even though Ron and him had their ups and downs (and Harry learned not to begrudge him for that, they were just teenagers after all), Hermione remained steadfast. She never once turned her back on him. When everyone else, even Ron, doubted him and questioned him, she remained loyal. He wouldn't have survived the Triwizard Tournament without her in fourth year, of that he was certain. He wouldn't have patched things up with Ron without her either. And he definitely would not have made it through the Forest of Dean if not for her.

The Forest of Dean. That was something Harry tried so hard to forget but failed. It was the most distraught, then confused, and finally happiest Harry had ever been and he didn't know how to handle it. When he and Hermione made love that night, it was as if all the wrongs in the world had suddenly been made right. He felt stronger, self-assured, and more hopeful than he had ever been. When he was with her that night, he _truly_ felt like he could win against Voldemort. Because how could he not, with this beautiful and smart witch by his side?

He saw Hermione in a new light that night and he had regretted it ever since that they never got to talk about it afterwards. The realities of their world came rushing back and the conversation about the night kept getting pushed back. Ron rejoined their team. They destroyed the remaining Horcruxes. The Battle of Hogwarts. The Defeat. The feast after The Defeat. And then… she was just gone.

It still hurt Harry to this day when he remembered finding her empty bedroom. She had left the feast early the night before citing a stomach ache and when Harry offered to take her back to her bedroom she had refused. She gave him and Ron kisses on the cheek, waved at their friends, and bid them all good night before exiting the Great Hall. He made a mental note to bring her some pepper-up potion the following morning before turning his attention back to the celebration.

The morning of May 10th 1998, Harry knocked on Hermione's door with the potion in hand. There was no reply so he waited patiently outside for a few ticks before knocking again. Still, there was no reply. Harry decided that he would just leave the potion next to Hermione's bed so that she can take it when she woke up. He gently twisted the door handle and entered the room to find her bed made and empty. Realizing that she probably had woken up already (for she's an early riser, that Hermione), Harry made his way to the Great Hall expecting to see her having breakfast. She also wasn't there. Next he made his way to the Library, then to the Hospital Wing, the Owlery, Hagrid's Hut, the Lake, and everywhere else she could possibly be while asking everyone he came across if they had seen her. The panic and the dread had spread over his entire system when it was lunchtime and still he didn't catch a glimpse of his best friend. By now, all of the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus, the professors, and his friends have been alerted to look out for the brown eyed witch. Maybe she had hurt herself somewhere in the grounds and was unconscious. Or maybe someone had taken her. For the whole day everyone looked for Hermione Granger with Harry Potter commanding the operation around the castle.

When the whole castle had been combed but still there was no trace of her, they expanded their search to the Hogwarts grounds and beyond. No inch of the Forbidden Forest was left untouched and the merfolk in the Great Lake was commissioned to help with the search. Then they moved on to Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, and Harry made the tough decision to alert the wizarding world of the missing witch.

The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler ran front page articles about Hermione Granger's disappearance. They detailed the events (with The Quibbler sticking to the facts and The Prophet adding its usual _flourishes_ ) and soon everyone in the wizarding world knew to look out for Hermione Granger. Her smiling face dominated the front page with moving clips of Harry's worried countenance peppering the article. No tables were left unturned and yet, no one found her.

Days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. Harry never gave up on his search but it seemed like the rest of the world did. While Ron and his friends didn't say anything to him, he could see it on their faces. They had accepted that Hermione was gone and they were all thinking that Harry should too.

Soon after his 18th birthday, Minister Shacklebolt asked him to join the Aurors. He jumped at the opportunity. If he was being honest with himself, he thought that being an Auror would give him more power to continue his search for Hermione. And it did, but he still was unable to find her. For even while he had easy access to Ministry records, hospital records, and could consult a network of spies the Ministry had in place worldwide, Hermione Granger remained lost. The last sighting of her was at the Great Hall that night. It was as if she left the Great Hall and just disappeared into thin air.

Harry tried to move on, if moving on meant burying himself with work. He was at the Ministry before the sun rose and after it set, pouring over case materials and planning field missions. If he wasn't at the Ministry, then he was out on the field chasing the next dark wizard and disposing of them. Ron and his friends thought that he was burying himself in work because he didn't have someone _special_. He and Ginny had tried to date after The Defeat, and they tried to make it work for a while, but it didn't go anywhere for he was too consumed with Hermione's disappearance. Now that he was consumed with his _work_ , Ron (and even Ginny, for she accepted their breakup quite maturely) tried to set him up with many different witches. And those didn't go anywhere either. They were either too clingy or too star struck. They didn't want to date him, they wanted to date _the_ Harry Potter. They also didn't understand how important his work and his obligations were too him. They couldn't handle his long disappearances and secretive work. He couldn't blame them though for he wasn't invested in those "relationships" either. Perhaps that was why he didn't bother trying to change his ways for _them_. Because, at the end of the day, he thought that they weren't _enough_.

They weren't _Hermione Granger_.

Yes, that's right. Harry Potter, years after she was gone, realized that he was in love with Hermione Granger.

It was during a field mission when he realized this, whilst he was out tracking a witch in South America. His latest girlfriend had ended their relationship right before he left for the mission but he didn't feel any pain or sadness. If anything, he felt relieved that he didn't have to think about her or worry about her anymore. And he questioned why he felt that. She was fun, yes, but he found her to be too scatterbrained. She would also stroke his arm too much while they were talking and the subject of their conversations never had a lot of meaning. He couldn't imagine a future with her, and shouldn't that be the ultimate point of dating? For him it was, since Harry only ever wanted a family of his own. If he truly and honestly couldn't see himself having a family with this witch, then why continue with the relationship? And so he accepted the "breakup" with a nod of his head and a kiss goodbye, and that was it.

And then he did the same exercise with all of his past girlfriends all the way back to Ginny. It was harder for Harry to formulate why he found it _right_ that he and Ginny broke up. All of his friends certainly thought that they were going to be together. Even the wizarding world had their nose in on the Potter-Weasley love affair. Merlin knew that Mrs. Weasley was basically already planning their wedding. Harry knew it also wasn't _entirely_ because of Hermione's disappearance. Ginny was so supportive during that ordeal that he truly felt like an ass for putting her through his moods and anger. Hermione's disappearance might have been the straw that broke the proverbial's camel's back, but it certainly wasn't the cause.

Harry couldn't picture himself with Ginny in the future and he truly wondered why. She was beautiful, she loved Quidditch, and she truly cared for him, maybe even loved him. He considered her family as his own. So why then could he not picture her as future Mrs. Potter?

So he thought to do the next best thing which was to picture who he _could_ see as his future partner and was almost knocked off his feet when the image started to form in his head. He imagined someone who understood him; _truly_ understood him. He imagined someone who had a strong will able to withstand his outbursts and calm his temper. He imagined someone smart, focused, and driven. He imagined someone dependable and trustworthy. He pictured calm chocolate brown eyes and a warm smile. He pictured _home_. He saw Hermione.

* * *

Harry angled his broom downwards and slowed his pace. He had noticed James Watson making his way towards the field from above and Harry thought it would be a good time for a chat so he would stop wallowing in his thoughts. It was barely past 6am and already he needed a distraction.

And James, Harry was glad to admit, was very good company. The young boy was smart and so comfortable around Harry that Harry always found himself enjoying their conversations. He touched down on the ground and James approached him with a grin and a wave.

"Good morning Professor Potter!" The boy said in greeting.

Harry dismounted his Stormbreaker and returned his wave. "Good morning James! You're up early, I see."

James walked towards an oak tree lining the side of the pitch and took a seat on the grass. Harry followed his lead and sat down underneath the tree as well next to the boy. He laid his broom to the side and extended his legs in a stretch.

"I wanted Athena to deliver a letter early for me. It's my mum's birthday today!" James exclaimed. Harry found himself smiling. From the conversations he and James had previously, it was clear to him that this boy was devoted to his mother. James' "mum" would sometimes come up in conversations (like "Mum taught me this spell," or "Mum's not a fan of flying") that it became very obvious to Harry she and the boy were very close. And Harry didn't mind this at all, for he wished he had a "mum" to talk about when he was in school. Harry figured a dad wasn't in the picture since James never spoke of him before.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate waking up to your letter," Harry replied.

"Thanks, Professor!" James chirped. "Say, Professor. What do you think about joining the Quidditch team in first year? Madame Hooch is encouraging me to try out for the Gryffindor team but I'm not too sure what to do..."

Harry's eyebrows rose on his forehead in surprise. He'd heard from James before that his flying classes were going better than what he expected but this was the first time he's hearing of James being told to try out for the Quidditch team. "I think that's excellent! Madame Hooch wouldn't have said that lightly so I'm sure she truly believes that you've got a shot in making it on the team!"

"But I'm only a _first year_ though. What if I _do_ make it on the team and can't handle all of my responsibilities? Schoolwork comes first, of course, but then there will be Quidditch practices and games and I'm scared I won't be able to handle both." James said with his eyebrows knitting in worry.

"James," Harry started. " _I_ was in the Gryffindor Quidditch team when I was in first year and Merlin knows I did _not_ have my shi- er, _stuff_ together as much as you back then," Harry said. James turned to look at him and he continued. "Trust me when I say that _you'll be fine_. Quidditch was one of the best things that ever happened to me and it made my years at Hogwarts so much better. Besides, Nate and Teddy will be there to help you along the way - I'm sure of it."

"How was your first year like, Professor Potter?" James asked.

Harry smiled as he recalled his younger days. "It was difficult at first - I must admit - but it got better. I had no idea I was magical until Hagrid came and got me on my eleventh birthday. The whole thing felt so surreal and it didn't start to sink in until I was on the train to Hogwarts. Then I met my best friends, and I had my very first flying class. Malfoy - we work together now, but he was a knob back then - took a friend's remembrall and threw it across the field during class. I didn't know what I was thinking, but I knew I didn't want Malfoy to win. So I mounted my broom and zoomed across the field to get the remembrall before it fell," Harry said. "And James, being on that broom and catching that remembrall was one of the best feelings I've ever felt." He grinned at the boy listening so attentively. "And then Professor McGonagall came down to the class and told me she needed to speak to me. I thought I was in trouble. _Everyone_ thought I was in trouble. But she took me to see Wood since she wanted me to play Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team!"

"Wow!" James exclaimed. "Did you know what Quidditch was before then?"

Harry laughed. "No! Wood had to explain to me the whole mechanics of the game. I was very hesitant to join the team until one of my best friends told me that my father used to play too," Harry said, his eyes softening. "They - my parents - were killed when I was a baby and I grew up not knowing a lot about them. But when I found out that my dad was in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I knew I wanted to do it since it would be something he and I would share."

James nodded his head in understanding and thought that if he was put in Professor Potter's position he would do the same.

"The game made me feel closer to him. Being on a broom made me feel closer to him. His name was James too, you know. James Potter." Harry said with a smile to the listening boy. "He was a Gryffindor Chaser! My godfather said that he absolutely loved Quidditch."

James bit his lip before responding. "I wish I knew my dad, or at least know what he's like."

Harry's eyes softened at the remark. This was the first time James had ever mentioned his father. "If you ever need to talk about it to someone, James, you know I'm here."

James nodded and smiled at the professor. "I know, Professor. Thank you."

"Anytime."

* * *

James spent the remainder of his Saturday after breakfast with Nate and Teddy in the Gryffindor common room working on their Potions essay. Professor Snape, though he had certainly become more fair and less bias towards his own house, was still known to give out long and difficult school work. This week's homework was five rolls of parchment on the Forgetfulness Potion which was their first major assignment in class.

James was currently in the Great Hall side-by-side with Nate and Teddy as they ate their supper. He had gotten an owl back from his mum during lunch and the two had made plans to talk via mirrors at 7:30pm that night. This was right in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall and James wanted the Gryffindor dormitory empty so he could use the mirror.

Glancing at his watch and noticing the time, James quickly scarfed down the remaining of his supper and bid a hasty goodbye to Nate and Teddy. He walked quickly through the Hogwarts halls and into the Gryffindor common room, up to his dormitory, and sat on his bed.

It was exactly 7:29pm when he removed his two-way mirror from the depths of his trunk. Grasping it carefully in his hands, he looked at the mirror and whispered his mum's name, "Hermione."

For a second nothing happened, but then his reflection on the mirror started to disappear to be replaced by a hazy white background. And then his mum's smiling face appeared in the mirror.

"Mum!" James exclaimed in glee. "Happy birthday!"

Hermione let out a laugh from the other side and brushed a stray curl from her cheek. "Thanks, baby. And thank you for the letter. It was a great way to wake up this morning!"

"How are you mum?! I miss you. What did you do today?" James rattled off excitedly.

"I miss you too, love! Remember my new friend, Rose?" Hermione asked. James nodded. His mum had written to him about the lady she met after dropping him off at King's Cross on the first day of school. "She took me out for a girl's day - we had lunch and went shopping afterwards! We had a day out in London and it was a lot of fun."

James smiled widely at his mum's enthusiasm. "I'm glad you had good day, mum!"

"Thanks love. How is school? How are your classes?" Hermione asked.

"My classes are so cool! Defence Against the Dark Arts is definitely my favourite class. Professor Potter taught us how to make red sparks this week!" James chatted excitedly.

Hermione's eyes clouded a bit and she forced to maintain the smile on her face as he spoke about his DADA class. It pained her to keep this hidden from her son but she knew that telling him about his father over two-way mirrors would not be right. She couldn't help but anticipate and dread for the Christmas holidays when all would finally be revealed.

"... Teddy managed to make red sparks too, but Nate, for whatever reason, ended up singing his eyebrows! It was hilarious! Do you remember Teddy and Nate from my letters, mum?" James continued his excited chatter.

Hermione definitely remembered who Nate and Teddy were from her son's letters since he wrote about them a lot. James told her that they were his new best friends. He described Nate as funny and boisterous but very kind and protective of his friends. Teddy was described as sarcastic, witty, and very bright in his classes. James only had good things to say about the two and Hermione was glad that he had made friends so quickly.

"I definitely do, baby. How are they doing?"

"They're great! By the way… I think of all three of us are going to try out for Quidditch."

"Quidditch?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raising. "You're going to try out for Quidditch?"

James nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Madam Hooch said that I'm very good on the broom and that I should try! What do you think of it mum? I really like Quidditch and flying but I'm scared and I don't want to do badly in my classes because of it. I don't wanna disappoint you, mum." James confessed as he bit his lip.

Hermione's heart swelled at James' statement. "Love, you will never disappoint me. I can tell that you like Quidditch a lot so you should try out! I trust you, baby. I know you won't let your classes suffer because of it."

A smile lit up James' face at his mum's encouragement. It was the last push he needed to hear to fully commit to trying out for Quidditch. Immediately his mind spun as he made a note to ask Madame Hooch to borrow school brooms to practice as much as he could before the tryouts next weekend.

"Thanks, mum! I'll try out for Quidditch then. And I _promise_ I won't let it affect my schoolwork if I do make it to the team. You're the best!"

Hermione smiled through the mirror and James launched on a retelling of his first month at Hogwarts. Hermione listened attentively, adding "Uhuh"s and "I see"s throughout James' story. She had missed her son so much. His letters, while they come often, could not appease the longing she felt for his presence daily.

"Baby, I can't wait for you to come home for Christmas holidays. I miss you so much!" Hermione said when there was a pause in their conversation.

James nodded enthusiastically. "I can't wait too, mum! Is it okay if Nate and Teddy come over our house one day for the holidays? I'd really like to show them Muggle London! Nate's family lives in London but I think he's only been to the magical parts while Teddy's from Liverpool! It'll be cool to show them our Christmas traditions like skating at Somerset and the holiday markets!"

Hermione grinned. "Of course, love. I'd love to meet your friends. If their parents are okay with it then your friends can have a sleepover."

"Thanks mum!"

Hermione bit her lip and considered if she should tell James about the important conversation they were to have over the Christmas holidays about his father. But looking at his shining face filling up the screen of her mirror, Hermione reconsidered. Now was not the time and alluding to the conversation but not telling him fully wouldn't be right. "Christmas can't come sooner, love. I really miss having you home," Hermione said honestly.

James gave her a shining grin from the other side of the mirror. "Soon, mum! We'll have the best holidays ever!"

Hermione could only hope that that would be true.

* * *

Harry was in his chambers preparing a lesson plan for the following week when a silver hummingbird flew through his closed door and hovered over his desk. It wasn't the actual animal but a corporeal patronus used by the Gryphons to signal that a message needed to be relayed. He told his team that if they ever needed to contact him outside of their bi-weekly scheduled floo meetings then they should send the hummingbird. Seeing as he just spoke to his team last week, this hummingbird came unexpectedly.

Harry immediately rose from his desk and walked to the fireplace which Professor Dumbledore had specially installed for cases such as this. No sooner after he situated himself in front of the fireplace did he see Remus Lupin's head emerge from the flames.

Remus was Harry's second-in-command and had taken over most of the work while Harry's on his "extended holiday". He's Harry's main source of all things Ministry and Auror related while at Hogwarts.

"Remus," Harry said in greeting. "What's going on?"

The fiery head of Remus Lupin crackled and sparked in the fireplace. "Harry," he began. "Our contacts in North America have reported signs of dark magic in New York this morning."

Harry's brows furrowed at Remus' statement. Magic, light or dark, if used inappropriately in Muggle communities could risk the exposure of the wizarding world. It's especially alarming that Remus mentioned it was dark magic. "Dark magic? What kind of dark magic?"

Through the flames Harry could see Remus frown. "That's the thing, Harry. Some of the traces left weren't from just simple spells. They're something we haven't seen before, but the residual aura mimics that of the Unforgivable Curses. The MACUSA thought to alert us since they haven't seen anything like it before either."

Harry's mouth formed into a line as he processed the information. Spells and curses leave a _trace_ after casting. Simple spells like _Accio_ or _Lumos_ leave a trace so inconsequential since the amount of magic required to perform them, in the grand scale of things, was very little. Spells requiring more concentration, more thought, and more _magic_ to cast leave larger traces. To go hand in hand with traces, which tells of the _amount_ of magic cast, are _auras_. Auras identify the _type_ of magic that was cast. Most spells were varying shades of grey, but dark spells like the Unforgivable Curses which can only be cast when the _intent_ to do harm was present, leave very dark auras. Feelings of dread, discomfort, and unhappiness can immediately be felt after entering the vicinity where this spell was cast. What Remus stated meant that someone had casted a spell so dark and so powerful to leave such a trace and aura behind.

"Where did this happen?"

"The Met."

Harry cursed. Someone in New York City was performing very dark and unknown magic in a Muggle-rich area.

"Any casualties?"

"Not that we're aware of."

"Send people from our team immediately to liaise with the MACUSA agents. Include Malfoy on the team. Maybe he would be able to tell us what spell was cast after he surveys the scene." Harry instructed. It had surprised everyone when Draco Malfoy, after The Defeat, decided to join the Aurors. It was difficult for him to find employment after the war since the Malfoy name had been stripped of its former glory when the acts of his father were made clear. Trenton Winchester took pity on the young man and offered him a position in the Auror academy. Draco, very much like Harry, worked himself from the ground up until he earned the reputation of being a keen researcher and analyst. Harry took him in as part of the Gryphons at the team's infancy and he and Harry had worked closely since. Now, not only was Draco Malfoy an integral part of the team but he and Harry, despite all odds and their very difficult history, became good friends.

"I was already planning on it. I'll send Adams and Cheng along with Malfoy. Hopefully we'll get to the bottom of it. I don't like this one bit, Harry," Remus said with a grimace.

Harry nodded his head in assent. "Keep me updated. Find out _who_ is casting this dark magic and _what_ spell they're using. Once we know the _why_ , I want this matter taken care of cleanly."

"Got it."

"I'll talk to you later, Remus. Take care."

"Always. Goodbye, Harry."

At his words, the flaming bust of Remus Lupin disappeared from the fireplace until only crackling embers were left behind. Harry leaned back on his chair and laid his head on his hand. He wanted to be out there. He wanted to be the one to go to New York and see for himself the trace left behind by this spell. For the first time since he got back at Hogwarts, Harry felt trapped. He wanted to be with his team and it did not sit him with him well that he couldn't.

However, he couldn't physically do anything for the Gryphons right now and he had new commitments to take care of. So, with that uncomfortable thought in mind, Harry tried to turn his attention back to the class notes he was making for his next lesson. But try as he might, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something much bigger was starting to unfold.

* * *

Author's Note: Oooh things are happening! I'm excited for you to see what I have in store in the secondary plot line that is now unfolding. I apologize for the late-ish update on this one but I was away for about 2 weeks and could not write/edit during that time! I'm super excited to be back! I am also re-reading the Harry Potter series via Audible and it's given me so much more inspiration for this story!

Side note: I watched Fantastic Beasts and the Crimes of Grindelwald on its opening night and liked it a lot! What did you think of the movie? I preferred the first one since it was more of a complete story and this one left us HANGING. What did you think of that reveal?!

Cheers, and see you soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**familia** (noun)  
family

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

It was the last Saturday of September and James was up bright and early to prep for Quidditch tryouts later that day. He had gained permission from Madam Hooch to borrow one of the school brooms before the tryouts to warm up and practice. At precisely 7am, James made his way out of bed (Nate and Teddy were still sleeping though they did say they were going to practice with him), showered, and dressed in warm clothes since the autumn chill had already creeped in. After wrapping the maroon and gold Gryffindor scarf around himself and encasing his hands in matching Gryffindor gloves, James quietly padded out of the boys' dormitory and out into the Hogwarts halls.

He loved this time of the year. Winter was definitely his favourite season because of Christmas but autumn was a close second. He loved seeing the leaves change colour and Halloween was right around the corner! He wondered how Hogwarts would celebrate the occasion. Do witches and wizards get dressed up for Halloween? James guessed he would find out.

Finally reaching the equipments storage off to the side of the Quidditch pitch, James carefully grabbed one of the old Firebolts from the rack of broomsticks. He wasn't really sure what the tryouts would entail, so he also grabbed a quaffle and a bucket of golf balls from the storage. He eyed a Beater's bat and thought whether he should practice with it as well, but decided against it. He had heard from Teddy that prospects don't really get a choice on what position they were trying out for. Everyone would be subject to the same drills and it was up to the Quidditch captain and veterans to decide which student would fill the remaining roles. James didn't think he would be a good Beater (and he also didn't want to wrangle the bludger out of its shaking chest - he doubted he could put it back himself) so he left the bat where it was.

With his armload of goods, James walked out of the storage unit and into the Quidditch field. He set the quaffle and bucket off to the side and laid the Firebolt on the grass. With his right hand over the broom, he said, "Up." The broom immediately shot to his open palm. James gave a grin as he closed his fingers around the handle. That never gets old.

After situating himself astride the broom, James kicked off with his right foot and he immediately shot to the air. He let out a whoop as he soared over the stands. The cold wind whipped through his body as he flew but he paid no notice. Flying always gave him a thrill and the excitement and joy warmed him all over.

As he was flying, James reflected on the last month he was at Hogwarts. He was excited to be at Hogwarts, yes, but he was also scared at first. He was scared of not fitting in. Many of his classmates and his two best friends grew up around magic but he didn't. He always loved books and reading but he would be untrue to himself if he said that _that_ was the reason he devoured his Hogwarts books so quickly. What motivated him to read so much and as fast as he could was the fear that his knowledge of the wizarding world wouldn't be enough. He thought that by reading his books, even though he didn't have real-life experiences, then he would at least _know_ about the magical things.

Oh, but _flying_. Flying made him feel more like a wizard than any spell or magical fact he learned at Hogwarts. Flying made him feel like he truly and finally _belonged_. It was _easy_. He didn't have to think as he tumbled and rolled in the air on the broom. Control of the broom came naturally to him and he knew just how much to lean forward or tilt his body to the side to maneuver however way he wanted in the air. As he approached the goalposts, James crouched low on the broom and he zipped through one of the golden hoops like a rocket. He looped in the air before making his way back to the grass where he had laid his items.

As James dismounted the broom, he noticed a figure walking towards him from the castle. It was Professor Potter and he was wearing his Chudley Cannons Quidditch gear with his Stormbreaker propped over one shoulder.

"Good morning, James!" Professor Potter called out.

James waved enthusiastically at the man. "Good morning, Professor Potter!" He waited for a few seconds until the professor was standing in front of him. "You're out here to fly as well, sir?"

"If you don't mind the company," Harry responded with a grin.

"Not at all! Nate and Teddy were _supposed_ to join me but you know how they are - they're still sleeping in!"

Harry laughed for that sounded exactly like his godsons. "I saw you flying earlier, and you looked great up there! Are you practicing for the tryouts this afternoon?" Harry asked. He had also noticed the array of balls laying near to where they stood.

"I am, but I don't really know how to prepare for it, to be honest." James responded with a frown and looked to the ground.

Harry smiled kindly at the young boy. "How about I help?"

James' head whipped up, his eyes shining with excitement. "Really?! You would help me practice, Professor?"

"Of course!" Harry responded. He grabbed the bucket of golf balls with one hand and sat astride his broom. With a kick of his heel, Harry soared high into the air. "Come up here!"

James eagerly followed his lead. He flew until he was as high up as Professor Potter and he leaned back so the Firebolt would hover.

"Pretend this golf ball is a Snitch," Harry said, showing James one of the tiny balls between his fingers. "And _you're_ the Seeker. Catch it!" With no warning, Harry threw the golf ball as hard as he could towards the golden hoops.

James crouched low on the broom and zoomed towards the post. The slit of his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the small ball that had started its decent. He made himself as small as he could and dived towards the falling ball. With his right arm outstretched, his palm closed around the golf ball a mere metre above the ground. He pulled up and stayed in a hover.

"James! That was absolutely brilliant!" The voice of Professor Potter sounded a lot closer than he expected and James turned his head to look. He saw the professor hovering above him after Harry followed the exact flight path he took while chasing the ball. "I wasn't expecting you to _dive_ but you did it!"

Harry was in awe at what he just witnessed. This boy had more skill than he ever had when he was in first year. James had so much potential and Harry had no doubt he would make it into the Gryffindor team.

James looked at the golf ball in his hand and blinked. He couldn't remember what he did just seconds ago. One moment he remembered hovering with Professor Potter showing him the golf ball and the next it was in his hand. Everything in between was a blur. He felt such a rush and he could feel his heart beating fast.

"Wow," James breathed. He looked at Professor Potter and grinned widely. "I can't believe I did that!"

Harry laughed and inched his broom closer to the boy so they were hovering at the same height. "I had never seen someone react so fast. You didn't even think twice, you just immediately went for itl!" Harry exclaimed.

James' smile could not be wiped from his face. He tossed the golf ball back to Professor Potter and gestured for another throw. Instead of throwing the ball sideways, Harry threw it up vertically into the air. Like a missile attracted to a beacon, James' senses honed in on the ball and he caught it easily seconds later. Harry, deciding the boy needed a harder challenge, took out his wand from a special slot at the side of his right Quidditch boot. With a simple wave and a mutter of " _Iacio_ ", a golf ball from the bucket levitated into thin air and hurled itself towards the Quidditch stands. It was in James' hand a second later. For the next little while, Harry helped James practice by magically throwing the golf balls in all directions of the Quidditch field. James caught every single one.

When the bucket had emptied, Harry beckoned for James to come back to where he was and the two descended back onto the ground. Another wave and an " _Accio_ " summoned the golf balls which James dropped after catching back into the bucket. Harry set his broom down and sat down on the grass to stretch his legs. James followed his lead.

"James, believe me. You were a much better flyer than I was when I was in first year," Harry commented. "And to think… you only learned how to fly when you got to Hogwarts. You're a natural!"

James grinned and his cheeks reddened a bit by the compliment. "Thanks, Professor. That means a lot. I hope I do well in tryouts."

Harry smiled and for a moment and the two just sat side by side on the Quidditch field held by their own thoughts. James' mind was imagining the outcome of the tryouts. He so badly wanted to be in the Quidditch team now more than ever after he saw himself doing well in practice. Harry, meanwhile, was glad to have helped James. After Remus contacted him last week about New York, his mind hadn't been at ease. Later that day the team of Gryphons would meet again to discuss the findings of Malfoy and Harry was glad to have James and Quidditch to clear his thoughts at least for a little while.

"Professor, would you mind helping me with the Quaffle next?" James asked, breaking Harry from his thoughts. At that moment two figures walked onto the Quidditch field and James noticed that they were Nate and Teddy.

"James! Uncle Harry! Good morning!" Nate yelled as he and Teddy approached.

"Hullo! Sorry we're late," Teddy said and shot James a sheepish grin.

Harry smiled widely at his godsons. He stood up from his seat on the grass and shook their hands as was their normal greeting. "Boys, James and I were just about to practice with the Quaffle. Why don't you go ahead and grab brooms from the shed and join us?"

The two enthusiastically nodded their heads and sprinted off to the broom shed to gather their equipment. James grinned in anticipation for the practice to be had with his best friends and approached Professor Potter with a wide smile.

"Professor, I just want to say thank you so much for helping us practice," James said almost shyly. "It really means a lot and I hope we do well in tryouts. Would you… would you come watch us try out?"

James wasn't really sure why he asked Professor Potter that question. All he knew was that his mum had always been there for his football tryouts but she couldn't be here to do the same for Quidditch. Having his mum cheering him on had always encouraged him to try harder and perform better. Her mere presence on the football stands uplifted James during his games. And, James realized, Professor Potter elicited this same level of inspiration from him. When the professor was around, James' confidence with flying and Quidditch increased tenfold.

Harry's face softened at the question and he immediately nodded his head in assent. "No problem at all James, it's my pleasure to help. And of course I'll be there to watch! You can count on that," Harry said eagerly. And he really would be. Not only were Quidditch tryouts fun to watch, but there was something about this boy that made Harry want to be around him. The little cloud of doubt in Harry's mind that he knew James from somewhere else before was growing but he couldn't keep himself away from the boy. James grinned broadly at Harry's words.

Nate and Teddy rejoined them each with a Firebolt in hand and Harry grabbed the Quaffle from the ground. If one had looked out towards the Quidditch field that morning, they would have seen four brooms zooming in and out of the goalposts and heard laughter from above. It was a good morning indeed and James had never felt happier to be at Hogwarts.

* * *

After the lunch service ended, Harry excused himself from the Head Table and retreated into his bedchambers. It was time for the Gryphon meeting and he was anticipating Malfoy's report from his trip to New York City to investigate the dark magic activity at the Met.

After he closed the door behind him and casted a _Colloportus_ and _Silencio_ to avoid any disturbance or listening ears, Harry sat himself behind his large desk. Harry pointed his wand on the space above his desk and muttered, " _Ergo occursum Gryphem_."

A thin white mist left the tip of Harry's wand and filled the space above the tabletop. The mist constructed an image of a long oak table in what looked to be a meeting room situating Harry's figure at the head. Plushed chairs lined either side of the table and a second later, figures of the Gryphons started to fill the seats.

Remus appeared first, and he was seated at Harry's right. He looked alert but calm and he gave Harry a smile in greeting. The next to appear was Draco Malfoy, and he was seated across the table from Remus and to Harry's left. His platinum blonde hair had been trimmed short from his days at Hogwarts and his grey eyes were bright as he, too, nodded his head in greeting at his two superiors.

The rest of the Gryphons arrived shortly. Nymphadora "Tonks" Lupin sat herself next to Remus and chirped a happy "Good morning!" to her teammates and husband. Ansel Cheng and Yasmine Crabtree filled the seats to Tonks' right. On the other side of the table, Theodore Adams, Novella "Nova" De Luca, and Cyprian Constantinou were sat on a row next to Draco. They were the Gryphons and Harry surveyed his team with something akin to pride. They were a small team of nine but these were some of the best men and women responsible for keeping the country safe from dark wizards.

"Good morning, everyone," Harry said clearly once his team was all settled. They greeted him and each other in reply. "I don't want to keep you here for long since it's a Saturday so let's get to what needed to be discussed. Draco, you have the floor."

Draco Malfoy, lead analyst of the Gryphons and one hell of an Auror, nodded his head and regarded his teammates with cool grey eyes.

"First, let me show you what the MACUSA agents captured at the scene," Draco said. He grabbed his wand from his pocket and said " _Scena revelare_ ". A picture of one of the large exhibition halls inside the Metropolitan Museum of New York materialized on top of the table. Harry squinted his eyes to look closely. What should have been a pristine hall filled with priceless artefacts was instead thrown into chaos. Broken glass and pieces of wood, clay, and other materials littered the floor. The Met's ivory walls were dark with ash as if a fire had occurred in the room even though nothing was burned. There was debris everywhere and Harry didn't know where to look. Statues were toppled over, many of them cracked and missing body parts, no doubt littered in the chaos around them. Tapestries were ripped and hanging precariously from the walls, and many of the windows of the hall were punctured and broken.

It looked like a tornado tore through the exhibit.

"It's a lot to take in, I know," Draco said, as he looked at the stunned faces of his colleagues. "But I have a suspicion that _that_ was the point. When Ansel, Theo, and I visited, we noticed this part of the room. _This_ was where most of the traces were left," Draco said, and a wave of his wand shifted the image and zoomed into one corner of the room.

This corner was utterly devastated. Harry couldn't even guess what was stored in this part of the museum since everything had been turned to dust. What caught his attention though were the markings on the wall. It was still covered in ash, but on the ash he could discern sparkline like patterns tracing up the wall. It was as if a ball of electricity exploded from this corner and threw sparks into the air marking the walls covered in soot.

"Were there any casualties? Any witnesses?" Yasmine asked, her brows furrowed as her eyes raked over the image of the museum.

"One casualty," Ansel Cheng replied solemnly. "The security guard. His body was found by the entrance. We reckon that he came across whoever did this and was killed because of it."

"How did he die?" Harry asked. "The Killing Curse?"

"No," Theo Adams answered. "No trace of the Killing Curse was at the scene. The MACUSA took the body and performed an autopsy. The man died of heart failure."

"He had a heart attack when he saw what happened?" Nova De Luca asked.

"The MACUSA thinks so," Draco said.

"But you don't," Harry replied, his emerald eyes knowing as he looked at Draco.

The blonde smirked. "You're right, I don't. Take a look at the next pictures," Draco said. Another flick of his wand and the image changed to that of a heap laying on the ground. It was the body of the security guard laid in the fetal position. The next picture was that of his face. Harry grimaced as he saw the pained expression on the dead man's face. Another flick of the wand and another picture was shown, this one of the man's clenched fists. They were clenched so hard that they drew blood on his palms. The last picture was that of the walls making up the arc of the entrance to the gallery on either side of the body. They, too, had sparklines drawn on the ash extending from the central point which happened to be the dead man.

"He was in a lot of pain," Cyprian Constantinou remarked. "It's something like the Cruciatus Curse, wasn't it?"

Draco nodded his head. "I certainly think so. This man didn't just have a heart attack. He was cursed with so much pain that his heart failed. He walked in on something he shouldn't have."

"But _who_ could have done this? And _why_?" Tonks asked in wonder.

"That's the question. We don't know," Remus answered her. "This is magic we haven't seen before. The only witness we have is dead. Thankfully the MACUSA was able to cover up the destruction at the Met with a glamour. They spun a story that there was a break-in and the security guard was killed preventing theft. Every artefact you would see in that hall now will just be a reproduction."

A question had been nagging in Harry's head since he saw the state of the exhibit hall. "Was there anything _taken_? They were at the Met for a reason."

Draco frowned and shook his head. "We don't know."

"We don't have a lot to go on, but we need to start somewhere. Whoever the person or group was that caused this much destruction and used such powerful magic _needs_ to be stopped before they hurt anyone else," Harry said firmly. His team nodded in agreement. "Draco, Ansel, Yas, and Cyprian, I want you to go through every item that was in that exhibit hall. We need to know if there were anything magical in the exhibits. Maybe the perpetrators were after an artefact. Remus, commission the Department of Mysteries to help in this research. After that, Remus, Tonks, Nova, and Theo, I want you to interview the Death Eaters in Azkaban. Get a hold of our _other_ contacts as well. Someone out there knows what happened." He dictated. "But above all, _stay_ _vigilant_. We need to know immediately if this dark magic happens again anywhere in the world."

The Gryphons nodded. There was no need for words since they all knew exactly how serious this new threat was, whatever it may be.

"Send the griffin if there's anything urgent. As always, you can contact me by sending the hummingbird. We'll touch base again as a team in two weeks' time. Does anyone have any questions?" Harry asked. The Gryphons shook their heads. "Great. Meeting adjourned. Have a good day everyone." Harry waved his wand and the white mist forming the picture of the meeting room dispersed into thin air until his tabletop was completely clear.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. A Muggle had died and they had no idea who or what had caused it. The situation does not bode well with the Gryphons' commander and he wished that his team would find a break in the case. He also made a note to visit the extensive Hogwarts library to do his own research and even considered approaching Professor Dumbledore. The man had certainly proven helpful in his past cases.

Harry glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearing 3pm which meant it was almost time for the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. Putting the meeting out of his mind, Harry stood from his desk and walked out into the halls.

* * *

James stood in line with Nate and Teddy at the side of the Quidditch pitch with a school Firebolt clutched in his gloved hands. He watched as the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, a sixth year boy by the name of Oscar Moore, walked the line in front of the prospects. A good number of Gryffindors from all years wanting to be part of the Quidditch team showed up for the tryouts. James could count at least fifteen Gryffindors clad in borrowed Quidditch gear fidgeting in line.

James was nervous too, but a quick glance to the Quidditch stands showed him that Professor Potter, joined by Hagrid and Drew, were there to watch amongst a larger crowd. He caught James looking at him and Professor Potter gave a smile and two thumbs up. James grinned and he felt the anxiety leaving his system. He performed so well during practice and all he needed to do was do the same thing during tryouts.

Oscar, a handsome sixth year boy with auburn hair and hazel eyes, was _very_ tall in James' eyes and he walked the line of Gryffindor prospects in four long strides. His scarlet Quidditch robes bore his last name on the back atop a large ivory number 1. He played Keeper for the Gryffindors and had been Quidditch captain since his fifth year. He was a formidable player as heard by James from the older Gryffindors and apparently was already being scouted by pro Quidditch teams for when he graduates.

"Everyone, thank you for showing up for the Gryffindor Quidditch team tryouts," Oscar started as he stood at the middle ahead of everyone. The veteran Quidditch players stood behind him. "We are looking for four individuals: one Seeker, one Chaser, a reserve Seeker, and a reserve Beater. We will also be recommending a Quidditch commentator to Professor McGonagall to commentate some of the games. Because of that, we will not only be observing your ability to play Quidditch but your knowledge of the game overall."

"The trials will consist of four stages: warm-ups, broom-handling, ball tracking, and finally drills with us," Oscar continued, gesturing to his team. "So without further ado, everyone, _up_!" Oscar mounted his broom and kicked off into the air. The other six Gryffindor players followed suit as did the prospects.

The first five minutes of the warm-ups were spent circling the Quidditch field flying laps. Oscar was at the head leading the train of prospects while the team observed from the side. They were huddled in a tight ball hovering above the Quidditch field with their heads close together in discussion. James knew that while this was warm-ups to those trying out, they were already being assessed by the Quidditch team.

After five minutes of easy laps, Oscar called back and told the Gryffindors to follow his flight path _exactly_. The tempo of the warm-ups suddenly changed. The Gryffindor Quidditch captain did loop-de-loops and zigzags in the air and the Gryffindors on his tail struggled to keep up. Well, most of them struggled. James was at the middle of this Gryffindor flying train and the veterans all noted that he was as graceful and as confident on the broom like their captain. The Gryffindor on his tail, a sixth year named Derek Crowe, was also very good on the broom and confidently kept the sync in flight.

The warm-ups lasted for another fifteen minutes after which many of the hopefuls were already feeling fatigued. Teddy was panting besides James as they hovered in a circle above the Quidditch field around Oscar waiting for his next instructions.

For the next three hours, Oscar led the players through complex trials up in the air. Sweat was dripping down James' forehead and his whole body was sore. His bum was aching too after sitting astride the broom for so long. He looked to the side and saw Drew and Hagrid chatting animatedly with each other, no doubt making comments about the skills of the Gryffindor prospects and hedging bets on who would be making the team. Professor Potter was smiling widely. "You're doing great," the professor mouthed and James felt himself grinning from ear to ear.

A long shrill of a whistle drew his attention to Oscar, and the Quidditch captain pointed downwards and started his descent. James and the other players followed suit. His legs almost collapsed after reaching the ground but he leaned against Nate who was looking just as exhausted as he was.

"Great tryouts today, everyone!" Oscar yelled from the front of the group. "Thank you to all of you for coming out to our Quidditch tryouts. The team and I will just need a couple of minutes to discuss so sit tight. This shouldn't take us very long since I _think_ we all have the same thoughts, right team?" He asked. The players chuckled. The Gryffindor Quidditch team walked to one end of the field to begin their discussion.

"I'm absolutely knackered!" Teddy exclaimed and collapsed on his back on his place on the grass. "That was insane. My _everything_ hurts!"

"Mine too," Nate groaned and rubbed his aching shoulders. "I will need a long hot bath after this. How're you feeling James?" He asked and looked over to his friend doing stretches on the grass.

"I feel pretty good actually," James said truthfully, a small smile on his lips. "I'm aching all over too but… it's kind of nice! It's like the feeling after a really good game of football." Teddy nodded his head in agreement.

Nate regarded them quizzically. "Foot… ball? What's that?"

Teddy burst out into hysterical laughter. "Oh god… laughing just makes my body hurt more. Stop making me laugh, Nate!"

Nate looked at his two friends who were chortling and shaking with laughter on the grass. "What's so funny?" He asked, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried to remain neutral. His question only brought another round of laughter from James and Teddy so Nate gave into the feeling and laughed along with them.

Another ten minutes passed before Oscar led the team back to stand in front of the prospects. All of them immediately got to their feet and formed a line in front of the captain. James bit his lip in anticipation from his place in line between Nate and Teddy and tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Oscar's announcements.

"Again, I want to say a big thank you to everyone of you today for trying out and showing us what you've got. All I can say is that Gryffindor has a LOT of talented players and we are so lucky to be some of the ones to represent you against the other Houses," Oscar started. Everyone in the Quidditch field clapped their hands and nodded their heads.

"Unfortunately, not all of you can be players. If you do not make it today, _please_ do not let that discourage you! We are all here because we love Quidditch. Even if you do not have a jersey with your name on the back, _you_ are a Gryffindor and this will always be _your_ team," he continued to more applause from everyone.

"Now without further ado, here are our results… Starting with our recommendation for commentator… we would like to call up Teddy Lupin!" Oscar exclaimed.

James gasped and spun to his right to see a wide-eyed, jaw-dropped Teddy. People were clapping and Nate was hollering as Teddy walked towards Oscar and shook his hand. While Quidditch commentator wasn't technically a position, it was still a great honour and James was certain Teddy was a wonderful choice for it. His friend loved the game so much and was so skilled at recognizing tactics and maneuvers that he just knew Teddy would be a great Quidditch commentator.

"Our reserve Beater is… Nate Weasley!" Oscar announced.

"Oh my god," Nate whispered from James' left to yet another thunderous applause from everyone on the Quidditch field. James laughed and nudged Nate forward. The redhead stumbled but quickly regained his footing and he shook hands with the grinning Quidditch captain. Afterwards he stood next to Teddy, the smiles on their faces shining brightly.

The Chaser was announced to be Elia Lahiri, a fifth year girl of tall stature with chocolate skin and mocha eyes. She smiled easily and stood next to Nate on the growing line of new Quidditch team members.

There was a pause in the announcement as the anticipation started to build over the crowd for the positions of reserve and primary Seeker. James shut his eyes and crossed his fingers on _both_ of his hands. " _Please, please, please_ ," he thought, " _Please let me be the reserve Seeker, please,"_ he begged silently.

"Our reserve Seeker is… Derek Crowe!" Oscar declared.

James felt himself sag slightly and a sigh escaped his lips. He kept a small smile on his face and clapped politely as Derek walked to the front and shook Oscar's hand. Well, he guessed he could always try out for next year. Maybe he should come up with a training schedule for himself? He really should get as much flying as possible anyway since he was new to all of this. He reckon that he just needed more time to be comfortable on the broom and then he would have a real shot on making it to the Quidditch team. He was super excited to watch the upcoming games though, especially if Teddy would be commentating some of them and Nate had a chance to play. He should also pick Teddy's brains later, since surely the blonde would have some tips for him on how to improve his gameplay. Teddy was good at that. He could also ask Nate for tips on flying. Yes, James would take this time to better himself at Quidditch and next year he would be back with a vengeance and make it into the team!

"James!" Someone exclaimed, and James was shaken from his planning to see everyone in the Quidditch field looking at him expectantly. It was Teddy who called him and the blonde was grinning madly with an equally buoyant Nate at his side.

James blinked confusedly and Nate let out a whoop. "Get over here, Mr. Seeker!" The redhead exclaimed to the amusement of everyone. Applause resounded around the pitch while James stared in shock.

Seeker? "Wh-what…" James mumbled in incoherent disbelief, and someone lightly pushed on his back making him step forward. His legs automatically carried him towards the grinning Oscar.

The Quidditch captain clasped James' hand tightly and gave it a firm shake, his smile beaming as he looked at the stunned first year.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch team, James."

* * *

Harry felt pride filling his chest as he looked at the scene unfolding on the field. He couldn't stop the smile which stretched across his face as he clapped his hands loudly. Drew and Hagrid were hooting and hollering by his side, both glad to have witnessed the exciting Quidditch tryouts and seen their friends actually make it into the team.

He caught James' eyes again and saw the boy mouth the words "thank you." Harry smiled widely and mouthed "you're welcome" right back. He saw James give an enthusiastic wave at his direction before turning back to the players who were congratulating him for making Seeker.

The stands started to spill onto the field to talk to the team but Harry remained at his place. His eyes locked at James' form and a small frown materialized on his lips. He couldn't really understand his growing attachment to this boy. James was the first child outside of his familiar circle whom he felt like he could be _himself_ around. Sure, he was a professor; but for all the other students, Harry maintained some sort of wall between him and them. He cared for his students' well-being and truly wanted them to succeed but… they weren't treated like family. And that was what Harry realized. James was starting to feel like _family_ to him.

Harry didn't know how to feel about this. Was there a rule he was breaking for thinking and feeling like this? It's true that he was teaching Nate, Teddy, and Drew as well, but they were his family _before_ he even started at Hogwarts. Their ties and connections were established well before he arrived. But James was so different. He met the boy at school (or at least got to know him at school) and through very acceptable and innocent circumstances, the two of them became close. Harry knew that he and James have developed a bond with each other.

Harry sighed and rubbed at his temples. " _How did this suddenly become so complicated?"_ He thought. He reminded himself to not let his heart open so easily. James was just a student after all and who knew where the two of them would be after this school year? He would be back with the Gryphons in the summer. That meant countless missions and long hours and pretty much no other time to dedicate to forming relationships. Harry struggled to maintain the ones he currently had, and he knew with regret that he had been an elusive godfather to Nate and Teddy. Closeness with another child was just asking for trouble and he didn't want to hurt James if they got any closer.

But as Harry glanced at the field and saw James surrounded by Nate, Teddy, Drew, and Hagrid; all laughing and chatting and gesturing wildly with their hands, he knew that it was already too late. That inexplicable bond between him and James had already been forged and it would hurt _him_ as well if he withdrew. So, with muddled thoughts filling his mind, Harry joined his family on the field.

* * *

The pen was scratching against the paper as she wrote furiously on its surface. Elegant cursive in black ink filled the page with words bringing the sense of urgency.

" _Dear Professor McGonagall,_

 _I regret to be writing to you about this but you're one of the few contacts I have in the wizarding world and I trust you with my life. I think I've uncovered something disturbing about the man I have been working for on my latest project…"_

Hermione bit her lip furiously as she tried to summarize what she had found out about Demetre Demos. The man had always been mysterious. She had only met him once before she was commissioned to do the work. She found that odd but thought that it was her reputation which earned her the work. That was the last time Hermione had seen him since and his preferred means of communication was email which suited Hermione just fine.

But two weeks ago whilst she visited Athens for a few days to peruse its vast libraries, Mr. Demos invited Hermione for a lunch meeting. After all, she had been working tirelessly on the museum's project. They agreed to meet at his office in the museum (so Mr. Demos could also give her a personal tour) and that was when Hermione witnessed something she probably shouldn't have.

 _September 14th, Athens_

 _A man was inside the director's office as Hermione waited outside. They were talking with raised voices. Through the glass panel on either side of his office door, Hermione spied the other man raise a wand against Mr. Demos. But the director of the museum wasn't phased. He rose from the plushed velvet seat of his chair and drew his own wand from the pocket of his suit. Hermione felt her eyes grew. She had no idea he was a wizard._

" _I would put that away if I were you, Christanti," Demos growled. The man, Christanti, stood there for a moment with his wand still outstretched before hiding it in his coat. "Be a little more patient. Ms. Watson has been working on this for months and I know her research will turn something up soon."_

 _Hermione's eyes widened at the mention of her name and she inched further from the door._

" _Now, get out! She would be here soon and I don't want her to see you," Demos commanded._

" _Do you really think this woman could find what we are looking for?" Christanti asked in a grunt._

" _Her reputation precedes her," Demos answered. "She'll find it. I know she will."_

 _A loud pop sounded in the air and Hermione knew that Christanti had disapparated from inside the office._

 _Hermione had to take a couple of minutes to herself outside his door as she steadied her breathing. Her mind was reeling as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. First, she knew now that Demetre Demos was a wizard. Second, who was Christanti? What was his relationship to Demos? And third, how did_ she _factor into all of this?_

Hermione looked at her letter to McGonagall and read over it again. She was rambling, but she really didn't know how else to summarize what had happened. Hoping that the older witch would have some advice on what to do and how to proceed, Hermione attached the letter to the owl she had borrowed from Rose and sent her flying through the window.

As Hermione watched the owl fly further away, she traced a bracelet James had given her last Christmas and thought about her son. Everything she has done she has done for him. And Hermione hoped that her entanglement with whatever _this_ was with Demetre Demos does not make their already complicated situation even more complicated.

* * *

Author's Note: I found my muse again. Thank you for all of your encouragement and continued support.


	13. Chapter 13

**Promitto.  
** I promise.

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

Hallowe'en

Hermione carefully arranged the pumpkins on her front porch just so and stepped back with a grin. It was the afternoon of October 31st and she was finishing up the decorations around her home in preparation for the trick-or-treaters that night. It was All Hallows Eve, Hallowe'en, and Hermione had promised her son that she would carry on their tradition even if he wasn't there. James always loved carving pumpkins, decorating their home, _and_ dressing up. So, Hermione carried on. She had wrangled Rose (the two women have bonded a lot over their children being at Hogwarts) into helping her set up and had even convinced her to stay and hand out candy that night in matching costumes (witches, of course). The two of them were just putting the final touches while listening to McFly on the radio and drinking wine.

"Hermione, it looks marvelous!" She heard Rose say from behind. "And _very_ classy. Good job, lady!" The blonde walked up next to Hermione and the two surveyed the front porch with delight. Multiple pumpkins, squash, and gourds of varying colours and sizes, some carved into jack-o-lanterns and some weren't, lined the stone stairs leading up to the front door. An owl's silhouette made from a black metal sheet was hung next to the door.

"James would love it," Hermione said with a grin. "I need to take a picture while it's still light out so I can show him later."

"How is James doing, by the way?" Rose asked, taking a swig from her wine glass.

Hermione smiled at the thought of her son. She remembered the conversation they had via the mirrors the night following the Quidditch tryouts.

 _September 26th 2009_

 _The mirror revealed the beaming face of James after she had said her son's name. Hermione returned his smile and greeted him softly. "Hey, love. I've missed you. How were your Quidditch tryouts?" Hermione asked._

 _James could barely contain his excitement. "I DID IT, MUM!" He all but yelled into the mirror in excitement. His eyes shifted to the sides nervously and he lowered his voice. "I made Seeker!" He whispered enthusiastically._

 _Hermione almost dropped the mirror in front of her in shocked surprise. "That's fantastic, James! I'm so proud of you!"_

 _James grinned bashfully. "Thanks, mum. I'm really happy. Practice starts next week and -"_

 _Soft footsteps followed by a "James?" sounded from behind him._

" _James? Are you down here?" Another voice asked. More footsteps padded down the flight of stone steps leading up to the boys' dormitory._

" _Oh crap. I think that's Nate and Teddy!" James whispered furiously into the mirror._

 _Hermione looked thoughtfully from the other side. It really would benefit the two of them if James didn't have to do so much hiding when he was using the mirror. "Do you trust them to keep a secret, baby? If you do, I think it would be OK if you tell them about this." Hermione said softly._

 _James gasped. "Really, mum? I do! They're my best friends! They can keep a secret!"_

" _James, who are you talking to?" One of the curious voices sounded from behind James. James mouthed "One second, mum" into the mirror before Hermione was faced with the ceiling of the Gryffindor common room after James had laid the mirror down._

" _Hey Nate, Teddy," Hermione heard her son's casual greeting._

" _Teddy and I woke up when we heard you yell, James," the voice belonging to Nate said with a hint of worry. "And then we saw you weren't in bed. Is everything OK, mate?"_

 _Hermione could bet her son was blushing right now. "Yes, I'm sorry for waking you up. I'm OK and… well… come here, I've got to show you two something," he said. Hermione heard rustling coming from the other side. "Promise me you'll keep this a secret?"_

" _Of course, James!" The other voice - Teddy, Hermione concluded - said. "You can trust us."_

 _Nate "mhmm"d in agreement. "Mate, you're starting to worry me a bit. This sounds serious!" He added._

 _Hermione had to keep herself from letting out a small giggle. Nate and Teddy sounded like fine young men and she was glad her son have found good friends in them. "Sorry, sorry," James said bashfully. "It's nothing serious. I was just… talking to my mum."_

 _For a moment there was silence and Hermione could imagine the confused boys looking around the common room. "But there's no one else here, James…" Teddy said slowly._

" _Not in_ person _," James said almost exasperatedly. "I was talking to her through_ this _," the mirror lifted from its place and Hermione was greeted with the face of her son flanked by two other boys. The one to his left was a redhead and the one on the right was blonde. Both looked at her with shocked faces and the redhead's mouth was dropped._

" _James, that's a two-way mirror!" The blonde, who must be Teddy based on his voice, said. "They're_ really _rare!"_

 _Hermione chose this time to speak. "Only because the spell to make them is a little more complicated than usual," Hermione said with a wink. "But with practice, most spells get easier. Hi, gentlemen. I'm James' mum, Hermione Watson."_

" _Then you must be a really good witch, Ms. Watson!" The redhead, Nate, replied. Teddy nodded his head vigorously to Hermione's amusement. "I'm Nate, Nate Weasley. It's great to meet you."_

" _And I'm Teddy Lupin, ma'am," Teddy introduced himself as well._

 _Hermione felt as if cold water had been dumped over her as she almost froze in shock at the sound of their names. Her son's best friends were the offspring of_ her friends _. She had to make an effort to continue the conversation as normal. "It's nice to meet you boys. James was just telling me how Quidditch tryouts went this afternoon."_

 _James grinned and nudged the two on his sides. "It's not just me who made it, mum. Nate was made reserve Beater and Teddy here is going to be the commentator!"_

 _Hermione had to smile at the excitement in his voice for succeeding with his friends. Brushing their parentage aside, Hermione heartily congratulated the two boys who blushed. The four of them chatted amicably for the next hour until Hermione ushered the three boys up to their dormitories for it was getting too late into the night._

After that evening, James and her had more frequent mirror conversations. Sometimes Teddy, Nate, or the both of them would be there to join in. They complained to her about their homework (and _sometimes_ Hermione was kind enough to help with their schoolwork if it was really, _really_ difficult) and chatted about their days in general. Hermione trusted that the two boys kept their promises and told no one about the mirrors and about her. She had no choice but to trust them as much as her son did. She couldn't bear it if the truth was spilled from anyone but herself.

"He's doing really, really good," Hermione answered Rose honestly. "He loves school and his friends are great. Quidditch practices are ramping up since the first Quidditch match of the season is against Slytherin and it's in two weeks!"

Rose shook her head at the mention of Quidditch. She had read about it in letters from her daughter and Hermione had tried to explain to the Muggle the significance of the sport in the past. "Quidditch," Rose said slowly, stretching each syllable. "Never in my wildest imagination did I think I would live in a world where such a game exists. _And_ that it is actually popular. Can you imagine all the _injuries_ you would get from falling off a broom? I can't even think about it."

Hermione laughed at her incredulity. Rose reminded her of herself when she was first introduced to magic. The woman was a doctor for goodness' sake. Magic had no place in her world until her daughter turned out to be a witch. Hermione was glad she and Rose have gotten close over these couple of months since they were so similar but so different at the same time.

"Both of my best friends in school were on the Quidditch team," Hermione said, her voice softening. Rose's ears immediately stood to attention. Hermione hardly spoke about her past, both magical and non-magical. And when she did, it was devoid of any identifying information. No names were ever mentioned and Rose respected the wall Hermione had built around her past. "I was there for every Quidditch game _and_ every injury that came along with it. It's frightening but they loved it and I grew to appreciate the game eventually."

Rose smiled and touched Hermione's arm. "I think I would like to see a Quidditch game with you."

"It's very exciting," Hermione said, her mouth twitching up at the corners. "Why don't we go to a Quidditch game in the new year? I would love to take you, Eleanor, and James. I haven't seen one in _years_. I know James would love it!"

"Deal!" Rose said, excited at the idea of being immersed in magic. "Now, I need to head out for a bit to run some errands but I'll be back later tonight before the kids are out, okay?" Hermione nodded and the two women embraced tightly.

"Thanks for helping me decorate, Rose," Hermione said, giving her a squeeze.

"No problem at all, hun," Rose said and touched her cheek to Hermione's. After handing Hermione her empty wine glass, Rose waved goodbye and walked away.

Hermione smiled as she looked at her front steps. Hallowe'en was always one of her favourite holidays. It was a holiday full of tradition and memories. Good memories and bad memories. So many events which have shaped her life directly or indirectly were tied to this date. The first disappearance of Voldemort… the opening of the Chamber of Secrets… Sirius' entry into the castle… the naming of the champions in the TriWizard tournament… and that troll in first year. That troll entering the castle on Hallowe'en was what forged her friendship with the person that changed her life forever. With her eyes clouded with memories, Hermione climbed the pumpkin-lined steps and entered her home.

* * *

James gasped as he walked through the propped open doors of the Great Hall.

"Wow," Teddy breathed from his side.

Clearly, Hogwarts spared no expense for their Hallowe'en Feast. Jack-o-lanterns gleaming orange with flames at their hearts floated up in the air. Like the Welcome Feast, the ceilings made way to the open sky. There were no treetops however, only the dark sky and twinkling stars with the waxing moon shining bright. Bats - whether real or imaginary, James couldn't tell - screeched and flew across the darkness masterily avoiding the floating lanterns. The aisles in between the four House tables were lined with pumpkins and gourds and the tables themselves buckled underneath the weight of the food. James spied racks of meat and platters of cheese. There were multiple stews, starches, and differently cooked vegetables. Pumpkin pies, carrot cakes, and other pastries added their weight onto the table.

"This is incredible," Nate whispered, and dragged James and Teddy to sit at their usual spot at the middle of the long Gryffindor table. The seats were filling up with students and soon the other first year Gryffindors were sat near them. Christian and Jack were already picking at the cheeses and Olivia gave James a shy grin. He returned her smile equally as bashful.

When all students, teachers, and ghosts were settled, Professor Dumbledore stood from his seat to give his address. "Everyone, welcome to our Hallowe'en Feast!" Dumbledore said to the applause of everyone in the hall. "There is not much to say but eat, drink, and be scary! Tuck in!" Everyone clapped again and the chatter picked up as everyone piled their plates with food.

James was in the middle of eating his butternut squash soup when the conversation on their section of the Gryffindor table turned to how Muggles celebrated Hallowe'en. Emanuel was asking Olivia, who was Muggleborn, the purpose of wearing costumes during the holiday.

"It's supposedly because spirits walk amongst us during this night," Olivia explained in a whisper. "You know… spirits of the dead. So we wear costumes so that they wouldn't think we're any different from them."

Ebby Chan, another Gryffindor first year, looked at her confusedly. "But… ghosts are everywhere!" She exclaimed just as Sir Nicholas, aka Nearly Headless Nick the resident Gryffindor ghost, floated above their table.

James let out a laugh. "Muggles can't see ghosts, Ebby," he explained.

Sir Nicholas scoffed indignantly at overhearing James' comment. "They _choose_ not to see ghosts," he said haughtily. "Muggles do funny things."

James looked at Olivia who shrugged and the table broke into fits of laughter.

* * *

The Hallowe'en Feast concluded with a spectral rendition of _This is Halloween_ from one of James' favourite movies _A Nightmare Before Christmas_. He had never clapped so loudly before since the musical treat was so unexpected. Who would have thought that _ghosts_ from the wizarding world would be serenading witches and wizards with a Muggle movie classic? Certainly not him.

It was almost two of the following morning and James, Nate, and Teddy were the only ones left in the Gryffindor common room. Hallowe'en being on a Saturday encouraged the students to stay up far later than usual and it took a couple of hours after the feast for the common room to empty. James had been waiting eagerly to pull out his mirror and talk to his mum. Hallowe'en was always one of their favourite holidays and he had missed her during this celebration.

"Hermione," James whispered into the silver mirror. The mirror turned hazy and a second later his mum's tired but smiling face filled the glass. "Mum! Happy Hallowe'en!" He exclaimed.

On her couch in London while nursing a steaming cup of tea, Hermione smiled widely and greeted her son. "Happy Hallowe'en, love! How was the feast?"

"Amazing! There was so much food and treats and the ghosts sang _This is Halloween_ afterwards. Isn't that hilarious?" James whispered excitedly.

Hermione laughed out loud and sipped her tea. "I would have liked to see that for myself. How are you? How are Nate and Teddy?"

At hearing their names being called from the mirror, Nate and Teddy stood from their game of wizards chess and walked to where James was sat conversing with his mum. Nate smiled shyly at the mirror and greeted Hermione. "Hullo, Ms. Watson! Happy Hallowe'en! And thank you for your help on my potions essay last week - I got a really good mark on it!"

"Not a problem at all sweetheart and a Happy Hallowe'en to you too," Hermione said softly to a blushing Nate. Teddy had to resist rolling his eyes. His cousin had a crush on his best friend's mum. "And Happy Hallowe'en to you too, Teddy," Hermione continued.

"Happy Hallowe'en, Ms. Watson," Teddy said warmly and gave her a huge grin.

After the pleasantries were over, Hermione pulled up the pictures she had taken from that day on her phone. They oohed and ahhed at the picture of the carved pumpkins leading up to the front door and laughed at a picture of her and Rose's Muggle-interpreted witch costumes, pointy black hats included. Hermione regaled them with stories of her night, listing some outstanding costumes she saw and breaking to explain to the two non-Muggle raised boys their meaning. Nate was very interested about the _Avatar_ costume she described and the world behind it.

"There was also this precious little girl who dressed up as the _house_ from _Up_!" Hermione said with a grin. "Balloons and all. It was spect-"

 _ **BANG!**_

A crash so loud sounded from her side of the mirror that James almost dropped his own mirror from shock. "Mum! Mum, what was that?!" He asked frantically, eyes wide as he looked at Nate and Teddy.

Hermione's face turned serious. She had dropped her tea cup in surprise and it stained the carpet of her living room but she didn't care. She bolted straight up, her right hand finding the wand hidden in the pocket of her jeans.

She looked at the mirror to see the concerned faces of her son and his friends. "Sweethearts, don't be scared. It'll be alright," Hermione whispered.

"Mum, what's going on?!" James asked, his heart beating so fast. The corners of his eyes were filling with tears as he looked at his mum from across the mirror. He could see the living room behind her, and her face was grim and alert and _fierce_ as she looked towards their front door.

Another bang. Another flash.

Hermione grabbed her wand from her jeans. " _Fianto duri_! _Repello inimicum_!" She said in an attempt to strengthen the protection charms on her front door.

Someone was trying to break into her home and she had a very good idea who it was. She also knew that the protective spells she had cast would not hold forever. Through the cracks she could see sparks of spells as whomever was on the other side tried to force their way in.

Hermione steeled herself. She had devised a plan if this very thing were to happen. Her main goal was to protect James. That would _always_ be her priority. Even if _they_ found her, she would see to it that they would _never_ find _him_.

"James, I need to go," Hermione said into the mirror. By now James was shaking and breathing heavily on the other side. "Don't be scared and _find_ _Professor McGonagall_. Tell her… tell her that _they found out_. I love you, baby." She cast a longing look at her son before she turned her head away and broke the connection. She laid the mirror on the living room table and pointed her wand.

" _Bombarda!_ " She yelled. The mirror broke into tiny little pieces.

Knowing her time was almost up, she looked around the room and glanced at the many picture frames which hung on the walls or were propped inside their picture frames.

Her eyes filled with tears as she waved her wand in a complex pattern in the air.

" _Absocendere ignem_ ," she recited. Small licks of fire left her wand tip and flew towards the frames on all levels of her home. She watched as the pictures burned around her, hiding the memories that they had captured and leaving no signs of the brown-haired, brown-eyed boy.

 _ **BANG! FLASH!**_

The front door burst open in a fury of smoke, fire, and dust. At least two wizards, big, tall, and fierce, stepped through her doorway with menacing looks. Hermione wasted no time and cast an _Expelliarmus_ in their direction. The burly wizard in the front cast a _Protego_ and her disarming spell bounced off of the shield.

" _Expulso_! _Reducto_!" Hermione fired, backing further and further away from the door. Her spells were useless; they simply bounced off the shield as the men filled her living room.

"That's not very nice now is it, Ms. Watson?" A familiar voice said from behind the wizards. A gap parted in between them and Demetre Demos stepped through. Hermione glared at the man and he looked at her unfazed. "I thought you would be more _welcoming_ ," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't need to be welcoming if you intended to _force_ your way in, Mr. Demos," Hermione replied acidly.

Demos' eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't need to be so forceful if you had just done what you were paid to do and not kept secrets from me!"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Hermione said steely. " _Confringo_!" She cried. Demos immediately said a spell she hadn't heard before and her spell was redirected to the wall of her entryway leaving scorch marks behind.

"Stop playing games with me, girl," Demos sneered. "I _know_ you have it. My men found out you were in Toronto at the same time as the exhibit. Now isn't that a coincidence? We wasted our time and efforts trying to get it from New York but it was a _replica_ ," Demos hissed, throwing the word in disgust.

"Your words mean _nothing_ to me," Hermione said resolutely, her wand remaining raised in front of her. She wouldn't give in, not to this man. This was a secret she would _never_ tell.

Demos glared, seething in rage. "I asked _nicely_ ," he said.

The man's wand hand was suddenly moving in complicated motions. He said another spell which was unknown to Hermione and a fierce yellow light emitted from his wand and flew right at her. It was moving too fast and she had no time to dodge. She called up her own _Protego Maxima_ shield but the light pierced the barrier and hit her right at the chest.

Her world turned black.

* * *

James, Nate, and Teddy raced through the dark halls away from the Gryffindor tower and toward the gargoyle on the second floor. They didn't know where Professor McGonagall would be at this hour so they thought to go to Professor Dumbledore's office and ask for her. James was shaking with fear, his hands clutched around the mirror which had gone dark, and Nate and Teddy had to support him as they half walked, half ran through the dark corridors.

"Just _what_ are you three doing out of your common rooms at this hour?" A voice directly ahead of them asked. James squinted his eyes and saw Professor Snape walking towards them in long strides, a frown evident on his face. Relief filled James' system at the sight of someone who might be able to help, even if it was the strict potionmaster.

"Professor! _Please_ help us! We _need_ to see Professor McGonagall!" James exclaimed, his voice hoarse. Nate and Teddy nodded furiously on his sides.

Severus was shocked to see the fear and worry and dismay from the three boys' faces. When he heard their footsteps echoing through the darkness, he thought that it was ne'er do wells trying to cause mischief on All Hallows Eve. He hadn't expected this.

Severus bent his knees and crouched to look at the boy in the middle. He recognized him as James Watson, and he saw that tears were threatening to spill from the boy's eyes as he literally shook from his fear.

"Tell me what's wrong," he commanded.

"My… my mum," James whispered. "She's in trouble! I _know_ she is! We were talking to her and suddenly there was a crash and she's gone… she told us to find Professor McGonagall so _please_ Professor Snape, I need to see her!" James said frantically. It was then that Severus noticed the small glass mirror clutched tightly in the boy's hands. Realization dawned on his face and he stood up fully.

"Very well, follow me. We were at Professor Dumbledore's office having tea after the feast. She's still there," he said. The three boys nodded and with a swish of his black cloak, Severus walked back to where he came from with three Gryffindor boys tailing after him.

* * *

Minerva and Harry were just in the middle of bidding Professor Dumbledore good night when the office door opened and Severus walked back in, his face grim. It took a moment for Harry to see the three young boys behind him until they were all inside the circular office of the Headmaster. Immediately Harry knew something was incredibly wrong. The look on the boys' faces were worrying and James looked to be near tears. Harry had to stop the instinctive need to envelope him in a hug as Dumbledore looked at the newcomers.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, his old blue eyes squinted in worry and shifted between the professor and the three boys. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm afraid so, Professor Dumbledore," Severus said. "I came across them when I was walking back to the dungeons and they insisted they needed to speak to Minerva. James, would you like to explain?"

Minerva was surprised to see students come strolling through the door with the Slytherin head in the middle of the night. She was even _more_ surprised when she realized who they were. What were her Gryffindors doing out of bed at this hour? And, more importantly, why was it _this_ particular set of Gryffindors? She was brought out of her stunned stupor when she heard her name and James broke rank and stood in front of her, his face grave.

"Professor McGonagall, _please_ , you need to help me!" James whimpered. "We were talking… and then there was a crash, and then she was _gone_ …" James said incoherently, tears finally spilling onto his cheeks.

Minerva crouched down and placed her hands on the boy's shoulders. "James, you need to slow down. Start from the beginning and tell us what happened." She said softly.

"Me, Teddy, Nate… we were talking to my mum through this," Jame said, lifting his hand to show Professor McGonagall the object in them. Minerva's eyes widened both at the mention of his mother and seeing the rare two-way mirror. "It was all okay, but then there was a big crash in our house and I could tell she was scared," he explained, his voice breaking from his tears. "She told us to find you before… before she left. The mirror went black and I've tried to reach her but I _can't,_ Professor McGonagall! The mirror isn't working anymore and I _know_ she's in trouble so _please_ Professor, please help her!" Minerva's face drained of all colour and James openly sobbed in front of her.

Teddy walked forward and enveloped James in a one-armed hug. The blonde also faced his head of House and offered a fact which James had missed. "Professor… Ms. Watson also said to tell you that… that _they_ found out," he added.

"Oh Godric," Minerva whispered, her right hand leaving James' shoulder and moving to cover her mouth in shock. This _could not_ be happening. Hermione was so _smart_ , so _careful_. She planned for every possibility and moved so carefully. How was it possible that _they_ knew? Shakily she stood up and braced herself against a chair opposite of Dumbledore's desk.

Dumbledore watched the scene with confusion and concern etched on his face. He was about to voice a question and ask for an explanation when a corporeal patronus of a griffin sped through the closed door of his office. The white light shaped in the form of an animal that was half lion and half eagle stopped its flight in front of Harry and reared its head back in a mighty screech. For a moment no one in the office moved and simply watched the patronus beat its mighty eagle wings in front of Harry in urgency before disappearing into thin air.

Dumbledore knew its significance and he doubted that the events unfolding that night were a coincidence. He saw Harry look at him in question and he nodded once. The Auror immediately went to the burning fireplace at the far side of the office, grabbed a handful of floo powder, and threw it into the fire. The fire turned green and the face of Remus Lupin materialized in the flames a second later.

"Harry," Remus said in greeting, and was startled to see all occupants of the room behind his commander. He was even more surprised to glimpse his son and nephew in the room surrounding another boy. "What's going on?"

" _Why_ did you send the griffin, Remus?" Harry answered the question with his own. Dread was starting to fill the pit of his stomach and he quickly looked at James who was still sobbing in his godsons' arms. This could not be a coincidence.

Remus looked at him, his face grim. "There was a report of a disturbance in a home in London just less than an hour ago, Harry. Our contacts in the London Police alerted us of its magical nature. Ansel and Yas were already there and confirmed the same trace we saw at the Met," Remus said. He voiced an address which sent James' head jerking up.

"That's my home!" He yelled, his voice breaking. Hearing his address from the man in the flames sent him into another wave of tears. He simply sobbed in the arms of his two best friends as they held each other tightly in the middle of the Headmaster's office.

Harry drew in a sharp breath. "Were there any…" He trailed off, his eyes conveying the question to Remus since he didn't want it said aloud for fear of James hearing.

Remus looked aghast and shook his head for he understood the silent question. "No. There was a struggle but… _no_ ," he said. Harry almost breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll be there soon, Remus," Harry said, his voice hard and authoritative. "Send our whole team there at once. I want _everybody_ in that house working on this," he commanded. Remus nodded and after one last glance behind Harry to the huddle containing his son, nephew, and the other boy, his face disappeared from the flames.

Harry gazed at the fire and watched it turn back red. He turned on his heel and looked at the room. Everyone was silent except for James who was sobbing. He felt something catch in his throat as he walked towards the boy.

At noticing his presence nearby, James detached himself from the arms of Teddy and Nate and looked at Harry who had crouched down in front of him. Glazed brown eyes covered in tears and rimmed with red met fearless emeralds. "James," Harry began. "I _promise_ to do everything in my power to make sure your mum is okay, alright?" He said softly.

A blur of brown filled Harry's vision as the boy launched himself into his arms. James wrapped his arms tight around his neck and cried on his shoulder. Harry slowly drew his arms around the boy and held him tight as he wept. Determination, fury, worry, and all sorts of other emotions were filling his chest. How _dare_ they cause James so much heartache by involving his mum in whatever this was? Harry vowed to find his mother and make whoever did this pay. Harry wanted to make everything right again for this boy.

From his place in James' arms, Harry addressed the three other adults in the room.

"Professor Dumbledore, I'm afraid I need to take a leave of absence from my post as Defense professor for a little while. I _need_ to work on this case," Harry said, his voice resolute and pleading at the same time.

Dumbledore gazed at the two figures embracing, his blue eyes wide as he only now noticed the resemblance between the two of them. His brain was turning and his eyes quickly darted to Minerva who was looking at the two with tears in her own eyes. Meeting Harry's gaze, Dumbledore nodded his head. "I understand, Mr. Potter. Severus here can substitute for a little while and if need be, I will ask Sirius to come back temporarily."

"Thank you," Harry said to both the Headmaster and the potionmaster. Severus simply gave a nod of his head.

Turning to face the Transfiguration professor, Harry said softly. "Minerva… I will need to speak to you to ask you what you know." He watched as tears spilled from Minerva's eyes and Harry's heart squeezed in confusion and worry. "Please get some rest for now. My questions can wait, I'll come by later today with Remus after… after surveying the scene." Minerva nodded.

The Auror turned his attention to his two godsons. Their tired and worried eyes were also lined with red and salt stained their cheeks. "Nate, Teddy… be strong for James, okay?" He whispered. Nate bit his lower lip as he and Teddy also nodded their assent.

Harry gently and carefully unwrapped James' arms from around his neck. He looked at the boy again and raised a hand to wipe away his tears. "James, I'm going to find your mum and bring her home to you," Harry said, his voice hard and strong. It was a bold statement indeed; a vow which he intended to keep. He could not bear the idea of James losing his mother on top of already not having a father.

"Th-thank you, Professor," the boy whispered. And James believed him. There was fire in Professor Potter's eyes and he knew the man would try his hardest to help his mum.

Harry stood tall from his position and his demeanor changed completely. James was reminded of the first time he had glimpsed Professor Potter - no, _Auror_ Potter - two months ago during the Welcome Feast. Strong, confident, lethal. His jaw was set, his body was tensed. His eyes were sharp as he looked out the window. Auror Potter was every bit the portrait of a protector and James felt hope building in his chest that everything really would be alright. Because how could they not if they were in the hands of this man?

Harry nodded in farewell to everyone in the room and squeezed James' shoulder one last time. He turned and strode through the office door.

His feet quickened as he descended the stone steps behind the gargoyle.

There was no time to waste.

He had a promise to keep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Revelio** ( _charm_ )  
a spell used to reveal concealed objects, messages, and invisible things

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

The townhouse was bustling with activity to all non-Muggle eyes. Harry apparated outside its front lawn and surveyed the scene. Underneath the bright moon, the Gryphons worked methodically. Cyprian and Yas were interviewing two Muggle police who had responded to the disturbance call that night. Thankfully the police were aware of the magical world (one of them was a squib) that they realized the special nature of the busted door laying flat after breaking free from its hinges. A peek into the entryway told them no ordinary human was responsible for the break in and so the _right_ authorities were called. Nova was looking curiously at the marks left on the door frame and Harry spied the rest of the Gryphons walking inside through the open entryway.

Remus passed through this same entryway and stood in front of Harry. He looked tired but alert, Harry observed.

"Harry, it's good to see you in person again, though I wish it was in better circumstances," Remus said. He clasped Harry's forearm and the men gave each other quick hugs.

"I know, Remus," Harry whispered in reply. He lifted his head to look at the house. "What do we know so far?"

Remus gestured to the townhouse behind them. "The house is registered to a Ms. Jane Watson. She's a researcher and historian though she publishes her work under her initials "H.J. Watson" as per her profile on the Institute of Historical Research. She had just turned 29 in September and… and we know that she has a son," Remus said, face turning grim as he recounted the floo conversation from earlier that night. One look at Harry's dark face and Remus could tell he, too, was thinking of the distressed boy who was crying for his mother. "His full name is Daniel James Watson but he preferred to go by James based on the school records we had pulled. Honestly, we don't have a lot on her. There are no _magical_ records and it looked as though she lived as a Muggle. The only thing which ties her to the magical community is James. I've got Tonks trying to dig up more information on Ms. Watson. She might not even be a witch."

Harry shook his head. "No, I _know_ she's a witch. James had talked about her before," Harry said. He was reminded of James' sheepish face as he told Harry his mum hated to fly but loved every other subject in school. "In fact, she might have gone to a magical school in Europe. Check Beauxbatons or Durmstrang for someone who might fit her profile. Check Hogwarts as well, but I doubt she went there. I don't recall a Watson at school even though she's my age. Although… she knew Professor McGonagall." He said, his eyebrows creased as he tried to imagine how the two women knew each other.

"Ms. Watson knew Minerva?" Remus asked in surprise. "How do you know?"

"Teddy, Nate, James… They were talking to Ms. Watson minutes before she was attacked," Harry explained. Remus' eyes widened as he started to piece together why his son and nephew were at Dumbledore's office that night. "James had a two-way mirror, Remus. I guess he told Teddy and Nate about it since they're best friends. But during their conversation, Ms. Watson was attacked. Before she left, she told James and the boys to find Minerva… and to tell her that she has been _found out_."

Remus' eyes widened. "Ms. Watson is a historian, a researcher. And we know she's a witch. We're not sure yet what her latest projects were or whom she worked for but it might be her work which led her to Minerva and got her into all of this mess." Remus said. "Harry… we need to interview her _and_ the boys."

Harry nodded grimly, his lips drawn in a thin line. "I know. I've told her we'll speak to her later today. We need to let Ron know too; we can't interview Nate without his or Luna's consent," Harry said. Remus made a note to call Ron later in the morning. "For now, I want to see this house. Talk me through it."

Remus gave a nod and gestured to the interview taking place off to the side of the house. "The police don't know much, unfortunately," he said. "They were called by one of the nextdoor neighbours. They responded to the call and saw this. One's a squib and recognized that magic was involved and alerted us. They claimed to not have gone further from the door. We interviewed the neighbour, the one who called the police, and he recounted that he heard a bang and a loud crash from next door. He looked out his window and saw smoke rising from Ms. Watson's door so he called the police. He couldn't remember anything else so we've _Obliviated_ him."

"Are any other Muggles aware of this?" Harry asked, his face looking around the street. He spied many Hallowe'en decorations on the porches of the row of houses, but no one seemed to be outside. He looked warily at the other house which was to the right of the Watsons' but saw no light coming through its windows.

Remus shook his head. "Not that we're aware of. The police said it's a quiet neighbourhood. The other neighbour is away on holiday."

Remus led Harry across the manicured lawn and towards the marble steps leading to the front door. Some of the brightly coloured pumpkins and gourds which lined the steps were smashed into pieces. Jack-o-lanterns greeted Harry with broken smiles, the flames in their hearts flickering faintly in an attempt to remain alight.

Nova stood straight from her crouched position by the doorframe. "Captain," she said in greeting with a small bow of her head. "The door was warded with very strong locking spells," Nova immediately jumped to an explanation of what she had discovered. "The dark wizards came through here, but they had a _very_ tough time. Notice these marks," her fingers traced through the lines maring the white door frame. It was as if someone had taken a crowbar and tried to pry open the door from all angles. "And the door itself." She pointed at the door laying on the ground, clean off of its hinges, scorch marks and scratches and soot evident on the side which faced outwards. "I reckon it's the same type of dark magic from the Met which nullified these wards."

Harry looked at the broken piece of wood and the splinters which laid around it. He was almost certain Nova was correct in her assessment that it was the same dark magic as before. But he also wondered why the door was warded in the first place, especially since Ms. Watson was living amongst Muggles. Did she know that she would be need to be protected? Harry filed it as another question he wanted answered in his growing list of questions about James' mum.

Carefully Harry and Remus walked past Nova and into the entryway. Immediately Harry could tell that this was where a lot of action took place. The coat rack was turned over. A table which must have been propped against the wall and once held a vase filled with flowers was on its side on the ground, the vase smashed and the flowers scattered in disarray. A mirror which hung on top of this table had a gigantic crack in the middle and Harry glimpsed two of himself when he walked past it. The landing was painted a welcoming robin egg blue but there were scratches and more scorch marks on its walls. Harry traced his finger over one such mark and recognized it as coming from an offensive spell which could have only originated from deeper inside the house.

Ms. Watson had fought back.

Or tried to, at least.

The soles of his boots clacked against the hardwood floors as he walked deeper inside the home. He reached the living room with its walls painted light grey. There was a large area rug of varying shades of blues and greens on top of which a well worn and very comfortable cream sofa sat. There was a blanket strewn on the sofa and between its seat and the coffee table, Harry spied an overturned tea cup which stained the carpet. He knew that Ms. Watson had dropped it after the intruders came into her home. He spied broken glass on top of the coffee table and surmised it was the other end of the two-way mirror which had been destroyed.

There were floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall next to the couch looking out into the garden at the back of the house. A low cabinet no more than two feet high lined the bottom of the windows creating a cozy reading nook and tall shelves filled with heavy books stood resolutely on either side of the glass. A large TV was propped on top of a white cabinet opposite the seat and Harry could see the latest gaming console peeking out from one of the shelves. The entertainment was in front of a large gallery wall which had dozens and dozens of picture frames. Wooden boxes of varying sizes and colours and holding different subjects were arranged artistically on its surface. There were paintings, posters, typography, and photographs. Plants, big and small, in brightly coloured pots breathed life into the room.

It would have been a wonderful place to come home to if not for it being in total chaos. There were scuff marks on the hardwood floors. The couch was slashed, its fluff and padding strewn around. There were punctures on the large window and books laid discarded on the floor, some of them with their pages ripped out. Plant pots were broken creating a mess of soil and dirt on the ground. The TV was cracked and barely standing on top of the cabinet and the wall behind it was a mess. Frames were crooked, some of them with their glass cracked, some of them had fallen on the floor, and many of them were burned.

Harry felt fury rising in his chest as he looked around the room. There was something else there too. Pain? Heartache? He didn't know. But as he surveyed the space he was reminded of the little boy he made a promise to at Hogwarts. He could almost picture James coming home to this place after school. The boy would have no doubt opened that door with a racket, quickly hung his coat on the coat rack, and tossed his keys atop the table. Harry could imagine him rushing into the living room to kiss his mum on the cheek as she sat on the sofa reading her favourite book and sipping tea. Perhaps after homework, James would turn on the television to watch his favourite shows or play video games. Harry could imagine the boy and his faceless mother arranging the frames on their gallery wall _just so_ during one Saturday afternoon and celebrating with each other after it had turned out perfectly and exactly like how they wanted.

How dare these dark wizards intrude on this home?

How dare they intrude on _James' life_?

Harry vowed to find them and make them pay for seeping the innocence from this place.

And his resolve to find James' mum safe and sound only grew.

Harry didn't know who Ms. Watson was, but he did know her son. And James, as Harry had grown to know, was a wonderful boy. He was innocent, smart, funny, brave, and warm. He was also absolutely devoted to his mother. If her son was like that, then Ms. Jane Watson must be the same as well. Harry had no doubt.

Harry closed his eyes and took a breath to quell his growing emotions. Now was not the time to let his personal feelings get in the way of his work. When his emeralds peeked through his glasses again, they were serious and concentrated.

Immediately they darted to the wall behind the television. There were many frames, yes, but it seemed to only be the photographs which were scorched.

"Remus," Harry called. Remus walked over to stand next to his commander. "What happened here?" Harry asked and pointed to the frames.

Remus frowned and nodded. "We noticed that too, Harry. The photos have all been burnt. And it's not just here in this room, they're burned _everywhere_ ," Remus remarked. "I've got Theo looking into this. We're not certain if this was the intruders' doing or Ms. Watson's. What's curious is that they burned _underneath_ the glass. I don't know of a spell that could do that."

Harry had suspicion it was Ms. Watson's doing but he held that to himself for now.

The living room extended to the dining room and then to the kitchen on the open-floor set-up of the townhouse. Harry's feet carried him into the dining room and that was where he saw signs of the same trace. A large barn dining table with a bench on one side and cream plushed chairs on the other was covered in soot. Sparklines zigzagged their way and traced patterns on the black dust.

This was where unknown, dark magic was cast and Harry grimaced at the fact that Ms. Watson was the likely recipient of the spell. He warily eyed the small soot-free area on the floor by the legs of the dining table and could almost picture Ms. Watson laying crumpled on the ground.

The rest of the dining area was in shambles too. A large cabinet holding fine china was marred, the shelves pulled out and the ceramics in display broken and shattered. A look to the kitchen confirmed Harry's suspicions. From across the dining table he could see every door of the cabinets in the kitchen opened.

The intruders were looking for something inside the house. Whatever _it_ was remained unknown. But Harry was starting to piece together the motive behind the break-in and abduction of Ms. Watson. Clearly, the dark wizards thought that she had something or was hiding something they were willing to go to such drastic measures to obtain.

"We need to know what she's working on, Remus. Does she have an office here?" Harry asked.

Remus nodded his head. "The bedrooms and her office are upstairs. The rest of the team are over there." He led Harry to the staircase.

The staircase had a long rug which spanned its length and his boots were silent as he ascended to the top floor of the townhouse. More picture frames lined the stairs but like Remus said, every picture was burned and discernable.

The Gryphon captain and his right hand man arrived on the landing of the upper floor. There was a skylight and Harry spied the stars and bright moon from beneath the glass. The landing was a large open space with four doors leading to the different rooms on the upper floor. There was another reading area built into one wall and Harry saw that the books which were on the shelf around it have been cast to the ground. He saw Draco standing by the only closed door across the landing and tracing patterns with his wand. Remus led him to a door which was opened.

Harry knew he was in Ms. Watson's bedroom the moment he entered. He felt like he knew Ms. Jane Watson a little better as he walked through her home. She loved books as evidenced by the bookshelves he saw in the places he had already explored, and this bedroom told the same tale. The room had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves built into two walls. The shelves and the wall surrounding her reading nook by the window were white while an accent wall of pale lavender backdropped a large king sized bed covered in cream duvet and pillows. Two matching side-tables flanked the bed on top of which an assortment of picture frames and more books were placed. A cut in the bookshelves on one of the walls made way to an opened door which led to a large closet and en suite bathroom.

But like the rest of the home he had seen so far, this room was also trashed, the pictures also burned. Books pulled from the shelves and torn pages littered the ground that Harry had a hard time seeing the floor. He looked through the other door and saw the same thing. Clothes which were once neatly arranged on their hangers had been thrown to the ground. The drawers have been rummaged through and even the place underneath the bathroom sink had been searched. Ansel was in this room looking confused at all the _stuff_.

"Found anything, Ansel?" Harry asked.

The raven haired man turned to look at him, his eyebrows creased in frustration atop his glasses. "Not yet, Captain. There are so many things to go through."

Harry nodded his head and stepped out of the room following Remus' beckon. The older man led Harry to another room on the second floor. Harry spied Tonks walking around this room through the opened door and when he entered he knew he was in the office. Rich mahogany brown bookshelves lined the walls and there was a large desk with feather carvings all around which stood in front of a bay window. A lamp, notebooks, and pens sat atop the surface of the table. Harry spied a cord snaking towards the table from an outlet on the wall but there was no laptop to be seen.

If the rest of the house was bad, then this was the worst. No books remained on the shelves for they had all been pulled out, pages rifled through and torn. Most of the wooden stacks were broken and on the ground leaving just the shell of the bookcase. All drawers of the desk had been pulled out and searched and laid discarded on the floor atop pages of the books, their contents spilled all around. The mahogany desk had scorch marks and scratches on its surface, marring the once beautiful feather mosaic, no doubt due to countless spells fired at it to reveal its secrets.

Tonks was using her wand to search through the contents of the desks that had been spilled on the ground. After glimpsing her husband and Harry, she stood up and walked over to them and enveloped Harry in a hug. "Wotcher Harry," she said in a soft greeting. "It's good to see you."

Harry hugged the Metamorphmagus tightly. "Good to see you too, Tonks," he said before letting go. "What have you found out about Ms. Watson?"

"Probably not more than what Remus had already told you," she replied with a frown. "It's hard to get a read on what she had been doing since those bloody intruders left us all this _mess_ to go through!" She exclaimed in frustration, gesturing around the room. "But I'll find something, Harry, even if I have to read every single one of these pages."

Harry gave her a grim nod and walked out of the room. He glimpsed through the other opened door and saw that it was another bathroom in the same state as the other one in the masters. His brows wrinkled when he caught sight of Draco, now joined by Theo and Nova from downstairs, hovering outside the only closed door across the landing.

That had to be James' bedroom.

In four long strides, Harry crossed the floor and stood with his team. Theo and Nova made way for him while Draco remained crouched on the ground, his platinum blonde head leveled with the doorknob, and his wand clutched in his hand.

"Draco," Harry said his name in greeting.

"Good to see you, Potter," Draco said, the familiar name slipping from his mouth. Though they have been friends for a long time, the habit of calling Harry by his last name never did go away for Draco Malfoy. He unbent his knees and gave Harry a quick hug.

"What do we have here?" Harry asked, gesturing to the closed door. "This is James' bedroom isn't it?"

Draco shrugged. "By process of elimination, it has to be. But we're not sure," he replied.

Harry frowned. "You're not sure? Why not? Go inside and see!"

Draco had to avoid rolling his eyes at his superior. "We've _tried_ that Potter, and the intruders did as well. But we _can't_." He said. That was when he pointed _around_ the door.

When Harry had walked towards it, a lot of the room's entryway was obscured by the Gryphons standing in front. But now that the blonde was stood upright and Harry was a mere foot away from it, nothing was obscuring his view. Like the front door, the intruders tried very hard to enter. But while they were eventually able to break the spell that protected the front door, they were unable to do the same for this room.

The surrounding area of the door was absolutely scorched and scratched due to the countless spells thrown at it. But the white door with its silver handle withstood. Not one imperfection marked the wooden surface.

Harry withdrew his wand from the pocket of his coat and pointed it towards the door. " _Alohomora_!" He said.

Nothing happened.

A line formed in between his brows. "Stand back," he said, and the Gryphons behind him dutifully followed his command. " _Bombarda_!"

The blue light whizzed through his wand and was dispersed off of an invisible shield which protected the door.

Harry felt his jaw turn slack.

At the sound of spells being cast, Remus joined the spectacle outside the only closed door.

"I think… I think we might need the boy for this," Draco said, biting his lip in thought.

Remus looked at the analyst. "Why?"

"Because I've seen a protection spell like this before," the blonde said. "And it was a very powerful and very complicated bit of _blood magic_."

Nova gasped. "Blood magic? Isn't that _dark_ magic?"

Immediately Draco shook his head. "No, that's a common misconception. Blood magic doesn't always equate dark magic, though it certainly can lead to it. It's just a branch of magic that requires blood to cast _and_ to break. We need the boy because I reckon only he can dismantle the protection on this door…"

Draco continued his explanation but Harry had tuned him out. He was looking at the closed door, his face in chagrin. One word echoed in his mind.

 _Why_?

 _Why_ go through all of this trouble to protect this one room?

 _Why_ does this house feel so _familiar_?

 _Why_ was Ms. Watson targeted?

 _Why_ was Minerva involved?

 _Why_ does it have to be James?

And, most importantly, _why_ does he feel as if he had missed _something_?

His right hand moved on its own accord and inched closer to the handle.

Harry almost expected to be zapped by the invisible shield but he was able to close his grip around the silver.

The door sighed.

There was a soft click.

The door unlocked.

With a small movement of his wrist and a light push of his arm, it swung open.

The Gryphons outside the room looked at Harry incredulously, all of them turning silent as they watched their captain walk inside the room. Draco and Remus looked at each other wide-eyed. Draco mouthed a silent question.

 _How_?

Harry reached a hand to the wall and flicked a switch. The room was illuminated with bright light. It was what Harry would have imagined to be James' room. The walls were painted a light blue, the ceilings white. Across the door was a large window looking out into the backyard with another reading nook built around it. There was a bookshelf which dominated the wall next to the door and Harry spied popular titles neatly arranged on the stacks. Amongst the books on the shelf were little knick knacks and picture frames. These photos were unharmed and laid perfectly underneath the glass. There was a younger James proudly displaying a painting which Harry had glimpsed in the downstairs gallery. There was another picture of him in a uniform, looking so smart and boyish in his maroon blazer, surrounded by friends dressed similarly. There was a grinning James at the park, wearing a jersey with his right foot atop a ball on the grass and surrounded by his team. A small trophy was placed next to this photograph. There was a photo taken outside the house as Harry saw the familiar backdrop complete with jack-o-lanterns. This picture held a mischievously grinning James while dressed as a brown mouse with absurdly large round ears. He was holding a basket shaped like a pumpkin. A taller female figure smiled next to him, head turned to the side as she looked fondly at the boy, and Harry could only assume she was Ms. Watson. She was dressed equally as silly as a grey cat with her dark wavy hair coloured silver, cat ears perched on her head, a feline mask covering her eyes, and long silver whiskers extending from her nose.

Harry grimaced when he realized the picture was from Hallowe'en's past and he couldn't believe how differently this Hallowe'en had turned out.

He rounded the room, the still bewildered Gryphons tailing behind him. The wall perpendicular to the bookshelf and opposite the bed held a built-in wardrobe surrounding a small entertainment system. A television stood perched on one of the shelves and a stack of DVDs were arranged neatly underneath. A full-sized mirror was hung from one of the wardrobe's closed doors and Harry glimpsed his tired face as he passed. The wall next to the window held a framed football jersey proudly displaying _Watson_ and the number 2. Framed medals and awards also hung on this little space and Harry felt pride filling his chest as he saw James' accomplishments. A guitar stood tall on its stand at the corner and faced the bed.

The bed was large and welcoming, covered in a bedding of mixed blues. It was neatly made and the pillows were perfectly fluffed. There was a stuffed football on the bed and Harry had to smile. James loved the sport and he was glad the boy had found another passion in Quidditch whilst he was away from the Muggle world.

As Harry passed the window on his way to the last corner of the room, he couldn't help but look up at the dark sky. A silent wish, almost a plea, left his mind and flew to the stars.

' _Please_ ,' he thought. ' _Please let me keep my promise to him._ '

Theo's voice pierced the silence and said aloud what they had all observed. "This room is perfect. No spell was able to get through that door, not even the one which burned every other picture in this house."

Nova was already going through the bookcase, examining every title. Draco was looking through the wardrobe. Remus was behind Harry, looking out into the backyard through the large window and wondering aloud if the window had been protected by blood magic too. It must have been.

Harry saw a stack of books on the nightstand. His hand reached and carefully he picked them up, examining the titles on their spines. There was a blue hardcover book with _The Golden Compass_ printed in a white serif script. A thin ribbon peaked from between the pages marking James' spot in the story. Two other books, _A Lion, a Witch, and a Wardrobe_ and _Murder on the Orient Express_ made up the triplicate of books in Harry's hands, all of them with bookmarks tucked between the pages.

Harry gave a wry smile. James was clearly an avid reader.

He looked to the nightstand. The books in his hands revealed a photograph which was hiding behind them.

The novels tumbled from his hands and onto the floor in a loud clatter which drew the attention of all the Gryphons in the room.

He felt as if the wind had been knocked from him. He abruptly took a step back and crashed into Remus.

"Harry!" Remus exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

Harry couldn't form any words. In fact, he couldn't even think. He numbly pointed to the table, to the one picture frame which held memories James held dear; to the photograph the boy had wanted to see the moment he woke up in the morning.

It held a face Harry thought he would never see again but would never _ever_ forget.

Wavy brown hair which he had for years longed to touch.

A smile so radiant it warmed his soul.

And chocolate eyes which bore right through his heart.

It was Hermione.

* * *

" _You mean to say you've read all of your Hogwarts books already?!" Nate asked with his eyes wide._

 _The brown haired boy nodded his head with a shrug. "I've always loved reading."_

 _"Well how come you didn't know about Quidditch then?!"_

 _James smiled sheepishly. "There was no book on Quidditch that mum and I bought."_

* * *

" _Bloody hell, James!" Nate exclaimed in a loud whisper, half in shock and half in awe. A series of red sparks continued to erupt from James' wand like a burning firecracker. The class erupted in applause and Harry smiled from his place at the front of the class. "How are you so_ good _at this?"_

 _James smiled bashfully and flicked his wand to stop the stream of red. "Mum taught me."_

* * *

 _"You'll learn all about flying through Madame Hooch." Harry said with a smile._

 _"I'm most excited to learn about flying. I read all about the other Hogwarts subjects but for some reason, mum didn't have any books on flying. I reckon she didn't like to fly." James said with a small frown._

 _Harry laughed and gestured his head towards the castle and the two began their walk back. "Flying isn't everyone's cup of tea. It is one of my favourite things to do though."_

* * *

 _"Good morning Professor Potter!" The boy said in greeting._

 _Harry dismounted his Stormbreaker and returned his wave. "Good morning James! You're up early, I see."_

 _James walked towards an oak tree lining the side of the pitch and took a seat on the grass. Harry followed his lead and sat down underneath the tree next to the boy. He laid his broom to the side and extended his legs in a stretch._

 _"I wanted Athena to deliver a letter early for me. It's my mum's birthday today!" James exclaimed._

* * *

Harry didn't know how long he sat on James' bed for. It could have been minutes, hours, days. He vaguely remembered Remus clearing the room after his wolfish eyes saw the item on the nightstand.

Clouds had started to cover the moon which Harry could see through the window. He felt stranded in time as he looked at the picture frame clutched in his hands.

 _Then_.

 _Now_.

It was a picture divided in two, depicting the same two people from either side of a decade.

On the left there was a baby; a cute, little baby no more than six months old with a gummy smile, shining brown eyes, and a head full of wispy black hair. The baby was held by a woman. Brown strands fell onto her face from her ponytail. Her eyes were tired but so filled with love as she proudly showed her son to whomever was behind the camera. A soft curve was on her lips as she smiled.

On the right there were the same two people. The mother and the son. Only this time, the baby had grown to be a boy. He had the same shining brown eyes though his smile showed a full set of teeth and his head was covered in black hair which never could lay completely flat. He was held by his mother. An arm was slung over his shoulder as she beamed at the photographer. Gone was her bushy hair for they now fell in soft waves. Her cheekbones were more defined. There weren't so many freckles around her nose anymore and her eyebrows were sculpted and more shapely; her lips, fuller.

And those eyes… they were the same eyes which belonged to the boy. The same eyes which had made him question for the past two months where he had seen them before. How could he have forgotten? They were the eyes that he turned to for comfort and for confidence. They were the eyes which narrowed when she was annoyed and sparkled when she was happy. Looking into her eyes made Harry feel like he was _home_.

More memories flooded his mind and he almost begged aloud for them to stop.

* * *

 _It was study period when Harry walked inside the Great Hall. Students of all years peppered the tables, their heads bent over their notes as they did their homework. He spied his godsons, Drew, and their new friend scribbling furiously on rolls of parchment at the middle of one of the tables. As he passed by on his way to the front, he overheard their conversation._

" _When I was in first year, we didn't have an assignment like this. History of Magic was the dullest class_ ever _," Drew said glumly and looked almost longingly at the homework the three other boys were doing. "I reckon Professor Binns had finally realized just how boring his class was."_

 _Teddy laid his quill down and looked at the others. "There! Finished! That was the easiest essay I've had to write."_

 _Drew rolled his eyes. "Of course it's easy. It's an essay all about_ you _."_

 _Nate stuck his tongue out in defense of Teddy. "You're just jealous. Hey James! What'd you write about?"_

 _The boy laid his quill down and stretched his arms out front. "Y'know… how I didn't know I was a wizard. Mum and I. How I went to a Muggle school before Hogwarts. How I got my name, my hobbies, favourite foods..." James listed as he counted with his fingers._

 _Teddy's interest was sparked. "How_ did _you get your name? How come you go by James and not by Daniel?"_

 _James grinned. "I was named after my grandfathers! Mum was the one who started calling me James… she said I looked more like a James who is my dad's dad than a Daniel who is her dad."_

 _Harry had to smile at their conversation as he walked towards Hagrid seated at the Head Table._

* * *

" _Wow!" James exclaimed. "Did you know what Quidditch was before then?"_

 _Harry laughed. "No! Wood had to explain to me the whole mechanics of the game. I was very hesitant to join the team until one of my best friends told me that my father used to play too," Harry said, his eyes softening. "They - my parents - were killed when I was a baby and I grew up not knowing a lot about them. But when I found out that my dad was in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I knew I wanted to do it since it would be something he and I would share."_

 _James nodded his head in understanding._

" _The game made me feel closer to him. Being on a broom made me feel closer to him. His name was James too, you know. James Potter." Harry said with a smile to the listening boy. "He was a Gryffindor Chaser! My godfather said that he absolutely loved Quidditch."_

 _James bit his lip before responding. "I wish I knew my dad, or at least know what he's like."_

 _Harry's eyes softened at the remark. This was the first time James had ever mentioned his father. "If you ever need to talk about it to someone, James, you know I'm here."_

 _James nodded and smiled at the professor. "I know, Professor. Thank you."_

" _Anytime."_

* * *

 _Feather light touches and sweet kisses made way to lingering caresses and moans. He sucked on her bare neck, her head instinctively tilting back to give him more room. He trailed kisses down her throat and enveloped a nipple in his mouth. A hand was tracing her spine creating goosebumps on her flesh and she shivered in anticipation. Her hands were playing in his hair, gripping, tugging, pushing, pulling. He shuddered when she moved her hips against his, her legs falling around him and their most intimate parts aligning. His hardness brushed against her softness and simultaneous groans filled the air._

" _Are you… are you sure?" He asked. His green eyes searched for her browns in the darkness and held them._

 _Her eyes were shining so bright that he almost mistook them for stars. Her head gave one nod. "Yes."_

 _His hands gripped the bare flesh of her hips. With one swift move, he lowered her onto his length. Gasps of pleasure filled the air as he filled her completely._

 _For a moment they held, acclimating to their new and most intimate connection. And then stillness turned to rhythm and they danced passionately together._

 _At the peak of their climb, two sounds reverberated through the forest and pierced the darkness._

" _Harry!"_

" _Hermione!"_

* * *

Tears he didn't know he cried blinded his eyes.

Hermione was _alive_.

James was her _son_.

And, with absolute certainty, Harry knew that James was _his_.


	15. Chapter 15

**aere perennius  
** more lasting than bronze

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

Night turned to dawn. Harry only lifted his head from the photograph when sunlight danced through the window. The hours felt like mere minutes to him and he was numb all over. The flood of memories had stopped, but now his mind was filled with so many questions he had no answers to.

 _Why would she do this?_

 _Did James know?_

No _, he couldn't have…_

 _Was she ever going to tell me?_

 _Was she ever going to tell_ him _?_

 _What had she been doing all these years?_

 _How could she keep this from me?_

 _How could she leave?_

 _How could she leave_ me _?_

 _How…_

 _How…_

 _How?_

It felt as if a heavy weight had been placed on his chest and was constricting his heart. He felt so much disbelief, pain, and anger. All these years he had wondered what had happened to her. Some of his darkest days were spent thinking she was dead, all alone and forgotten. He never gave up hope that she was alive but he had almost come to terms that he would never see her again.

His heart was almost healing. He was finally letting go.

And now… now he found out that she _was_ alive. Now he found out that she had been living like a Muggle underneath his nose this whole time. They lived in the same city for God's sake!

And _James_. God, James. She had a son. _He_ had a _son_. How could she have kept that from him? How could she have denied him the one thing he wanted most in the world? Did she think he was inadequate to be a father? She knew all he ever wanted was a family of his own. _How_ could she do that? More importantly… how could she have denied _James_ a father?

James never knew his dad.

Harry never knew his son.

"Mate, you look like shit."

Harry's head whipped to the side to see a person he hadn't seen in months. The tall, lanky figure of his best friend stood by the entrance of the room. Harry didn't hear him walk in but seeing his smiling face and familiar red hair made Harry breathe a little easier. In two long strides, Harry was embracing his best friend.

Ron Weasley and Harry Potter made a striking contrast. Ron was a couple inches taller, his head a vibrant shade of red. He was paler too, his face speckled with freckles he never did outgrow. Blue eyes were shining as he looked at the man he had long considered a brother. He was bright, the glow of fatherhood evident on his face having just come from being at home with his children. Harry, meanwhile, was dark. His hair was like black ink and he hadn't quite lost the tan he got from his mission before Hogwarts. He was more muscular than the redhead even though he was shorter. His face was grim and it looked as though he had been to hell and back.

They ended their embrace and sat side-by-side at the foot of the bed. There was silence. Harry's head bent to look at the photograph still in his hands while Ron took time to survey the room.

"So it's true, huh?" The redhead mused softly. "I didn't believe Lupin when he told me but I see that it's all… true." Ron whispered, his eyes locking on to the photograph Harry would not let go.

The Auror's head jerked upwards. His green eyes were almost wild, Ron noted. There were so many emotions flitting through his face that Ron couldn't quite identify them all.

"She's _alive,_ Ron," Harry said, his voice breaking. "And she has a son… _my_ son…"

"How do you know he's yours?" Ron asked casually, an eyebrow raising.

Harry barked out a bitter laugh. "Because his name is _James_ , and he was named after his _grandfather_. Because… because eleven years ago while we were searching for Horcruxes and you left, Hermione and I… we…"

"You had sex." Ron supplied bluntly. "I _knew_ there was something different with you two!" He exclaimed almost accusingly.

"I got her _pregnant,_ Ron," Harry whispered, burying his face in his palm. "And I never knew about it. _She never told me._ "

"Mate…" Ron began.

"HOW could she do that Ron?!" Harry erupted in question, anger in his voice. He stood from his seat and started to pace the floor. "How could she keep this from me? How could she just _leave_?" One hand was clenched into a fist at his side.

It had hurt to think about but saying the words out loud was so much worse. It felt like he was admitting to his own faults _and_ Hermione's. It was like he was accepting them as true. He felt like a failure for not being able to find her. He felt like a failure for not knowing she was pregnant. He felt like a failure for not being there for her _and_ for James. But also… now he was admitting that Hermione, the person he had most loved and cherished in the world, _wasn't_ perfect because _she had failed him_.

This realization was a lot harder to swallow than his downfalls. Yes, she was stubborn, had the tendency to be argumentative, and could be very judgemental and narrow-minded. He remembered her jealousy towards Ron and Lavender being together in their sixth year. He could remember how dismissive she was towards Luna and how she insisted house elves needed to be freed. But her transgressions throughout all the years Harry had known her were few and were hardly ever towards _him_. She was a steadfast friend, truly a _best_ friend, and he never felt so wronged by her before.

Even in her disappearance. After years of no one finding her and silence from the Death Eaters and other dark wizards, Harry realized she left of her own accord. It had hurt to come to that conclusion, yes, but it was better than imagining she was being held captive or, even worse, dead. But Harry reasoned with himself that she left _for herself_. The Battle and the years leading up to it had left so many scars on the people he loved the most. Even if the physical battle was over, he knew everyone around him was fighting their own wars inside themselves. He _understood_ Hermione for wanting to get away from _him_ , from their friends, from the whole wizarding world because _he_ wanted to get away too. He resigned himself to believing that Hermione left because she _needed_ to leave.

And now to find out the true reason behind her leaving. She left because she was _pregnant_. She left because she wanted to keep that from him. She left him behind and kept a _family_ from him.

It was heartbreaking almost as much as it was unforgivable. Her faultlessness towards him was a constant in his life that this realization almost shattered the very foundation of which he built his dreams and beliefs on.

"I'm a _father_ , Ron. I have a bloody son whom I never knew about. I missed out on so much. I… I never got to know James, never got to see him grow up. He probably thinks his father is _dead_ or… or didn't _want_ _him_. All I wanted was a family of my own and SHE. KEPT. THAT. FROM. ME!" Harry yelled. The corners of his eyes pooled with tears and he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

Ron only nodded silently.

Harry's green eyes turned to slits and he openly glared at his best friend. "How could you… how could just _sit_ there?! You and I looked for her for _months_ , Ron. She was also your _best friend_!" Harry shouted.

Something changed in Ron's demeanor and his face sharpened. He stood up and grasped Harry's shoulder tightly.

"Because _now_ is not the time to have a reaction, Harry!" He yelled, blue eyes flashing. "Hermione is _missing._ She is in a lot of trouble by the state of this house!"

He rubbed a hand across his face. "Look, mate, I _know_ you're angry and you have every right to be..." The redhead said and his face blanched at the words he chose to say next. "But _you_ have a son who would very much like his _mother_ back."

Something inside Harry broke and he felt as if he had been slapped in the face. Ron might as well _have_ slapped him, because he felt shaken to his core. Vividly he could see James' crying face as he begged for them to help his mum. His promise to the boy, to _his son_ , rang clear in his ears.

"You _need_ to find her, Harry. Bring Hermione back home."

* * *

When Harry reemerged from inside James' room, with Ron tailing behind him, he was a changed man. His face was devoid of all emotion. His eyes were dark and his lips were set in a thin line. He noticed that the other Gryphons were not on the upper floor and a questioning look to Ron gave him his answer.

"Your team is downstairs, Harry," Ron said to his silent question. Harry closed James' bedroom door, felt the hiss of blood magic being recast as the shield went back to its place, and he walked down the flight of stairs.

Remus, Tonks, Draco, and Ansel were congregated in the living room. A lot of the mess had been cleared up and his team stood around the coffee table. The table was empty save for a pile of papers with what looked to be handwritten notes and a small rectangular slip of laminated sheet.

"Harry," Remus said at seeing his captain enter. "I've sent the others back to the office to resume their research on the traces we saw at the Met and in here. The two events have to be related."

Harry gave a sharp nod towards the table's contents. "What are those?"

"They're Hermione's notes, Harry," Tonks said. Harry had to avoid outwardly flinching at Tonks' use of Hermione's name so casually. "Well, it's _some_ of her notes. They were what I could find in her office. They're on Greek myths."

"And the little slip of paper?" He asked.

"It's an airplane ticket," Ansel answered. "It was in her closet trash bin. I couldn't find her passport but the ticket was to Toronto Pearson from London Heathrow. It was for September 16th but we don't know how long she was there for."

"Did Granger have any family in Canada, Potter?" Draco asked, brow arching.

Harry's head shook from side to side. "No… _I don't know_ … she was an only child and I don't think she had any cousins."

"She might have been there for work… or for her birthday. Hermione's birthday was the 19th of September, wasn't it?" Tonks asked to Harry's sharp nod. Yes, September 19th was her birthday.

A commotion from the front of the house caught their attention. It sounded to be footsteps running up the stone stairs and someone muttering "Oh my God" over and over again. A woman's figure appeared on the other side of the busted door.

"I thought you put up a glamour, Draco," Remus whispered.

"I did," he muttered, frowning.

The woman's face was aghast, eyes wide and jaw dropped as she looked at the occupants of the room. At noticing the state of the entryway and the living room, she gasped and almost fell over had she not supported herself upright by the doorframe. At seeing the state of the doorframe she was leaning against, she jumped away from it and fell on her bum on top of the stone landing.

Ron winced and approached the woman.

"Stay back!" She yelled, her arms stretched in front of her. "Who are you people and what have you done to Hermione?!"

Harry rushed past Ron and knelt in front of the terrified woman. " _How_ do you know Hermione?" He asked almost desperately.

Ron's grip on his shoulder was tight as the redhead also knelt by the woman on the floor. "Harry, _stop_. She's in shock," he said. Ron extended a hand to the woman looking at Harry with incredulity and a little bit of fear. She gratefully took his proffered hand and stood up.

Remus slowly walked towards the front and softly addressed the woman. "Miss, we're Aurors. I'm Remus Lupin, second in command of the Gryphons Auror team." He pulled his badge from the pocket of his robes and showed her. "We were called to this home because there had been a magical disturbance. I'm afraid… I'm afraid Ms. Watson had been taken."

Rose almost fell back down in shock had it not been for Ron who was still holding her. "Oh no, Hermione," she whispered. Her eyes were glazed with worry and her face had turned to such dismay. "Is James alright?! Does he know about this? Oh God, they're all each other has…" She bit her lip and tried to keep the tears which were pooling in her eyes from falling.

Harry's face grew darker and he felt wounded by her words.

 _They're all each other has…_

Because he wasn't in the picture. Because he was _forced_ out of the picture.

"Yes, Miss, James knows about it," Remus said grimly. "And it would really help us if we can ask you some questions. I'm afraid we don't know a lot about Ms. Watson."

"Oh yes, of course, any way I can help," Rose said determinedly. She was led further inside the home which she had just visited the night before and gasped aloud as she saw clearly the state of its destruction. The gallery which Hermione was so proud of was in ruins. The plants, some of which she had helped Hermione pick out, were dying as they lay crumpled on the ground. The once beautiful and homey living room of her close friend which Rose so admired was gone.

Rose's tears did spill as Ron gently sat her on the reading nook cushion which was relatively unharmed compared to the couch. "Those bastards…" She mumbled, eyes still looking through the room.

Remus crouched in front of her. "Miss, the rest of the Gryphons who are here are Auror Malfoy, Auror Tonks, Auror Cheng, and Auror Potter, our captain. This man is Ron Weasley and he is a friend of the team and works for the Ministry of Magic." Remus introduced everyone in the room without bothering to differentiate between the other Aurors. Rose smiled faintly at Ron (who was the friendliest of these people so far, she thought) and he gave her a small grin back. "First, may I ask what your name is?"

"It's Rose. Rose Green."

"And what is it that you do, Ms. Green?"

"I'm a doctor of pediatrics." She grabbed the ID which hung around her neck on a lanyard and held it up to Lupin's face. He nodded.

"What is your relationship with Ms. Watson?"

"Hermione is my friend."

"How is it that you know my Ms. Watson?"

"I met her at Kings Cross. We were dropping our kids off at the station and got to talking," Rose replied, her eyes downcast. "She had been a great help to me these past two months. I'm… I'm not a witch. I didn't know my daughter was either until we got her letter. Hermione had been helping me come to terms with magic."

Remus nodded understandingly. "When was the last time you saw Ms. Watson?"

"Just last night!" Rose replied. "I was _here_ at this house. I helped her with decorations and then we handed out candy to trick-or-treaters. I can't… I can't believe this happened."

"Why were you back then, Ms. Green?" Remus continued his questions.

"I work at the hospital a couple of blocks from here. I pass by this house every day on my way to work," Rose replied. "I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the state of the front."

"Do you know what Ms. Watson does for a living?"

"Yes, of course. She's a freelance researcher. She told me she usually works with different government groups or museums."

At the mention of museums, Harry's eyes met Draco's.

"Do you know what project she was currently working on?" Remus asked.

At this, Rose bit her lip as she paused to think. Hermione _had_ mentioned it before but the full picture evaded her. "She was working for someone in Greece. Actually, she was in Athens sometime in September, but soon after she got back from that, she flew to Toronto..."

Remus' brows furrowed. "Do you remember how long Ms. Watson was gone for? Can you remember exact dates?"

"I… I think so? Her birthday was the 19th and she and I celebrated together, so she was already back in London at that time. I think she was in Athens a week before on the 12th. She said she needed to visit the libraries there and the person she was working for wanted to meet her. I remember her being back for less than a day before she left for Toronto! _That_ one was a short trip, not even a day trip, before she came back to London. She didn't really tell me why she needed to go to Toronto," Rose paused and frowned. "But I remember her being so tired when we celebrated her birthday since she had just gotten home then."

A silent communication passed between Harry and Draco. Something happened in Toronto and they needed to know what that was.

"Thank you, Ms. Green," Remus said. "Going back to the project she was working on, did Ms. Watson ever mention any _names_?"

Rose squinted her eyes in thought. "Actually, yes. Before she left for Greece, she said she was meeting a _Mr. Demos_. I'm sorry but I can't remember his first name or what he does."

Remus patted the woman's clasped hands. "Please don't be sorry, Ms. Green. You are being so helpful. I only have a couple more questions. Did Ms. Watson ever mention any other family members apart from James? Other friends? Do you know what relationships she has?"

Rose frowned and her eyes turned downcast again. "Hermione was very private and I never pried since I haven't known her for very long at all," she began. "I don't think she has any other family since she doesn't talk about them. She mentioned that she _was_ dating a bloke named Lukas but had broken it off this past summer before James went to Hogwarts. I don't think it was very serious." She said. She glanced up and was startled to see the dark haired wizard - Harry? She remembered Ron saying - looking almost angry at her statement. "Most of her friends were parents of James' friends, and I've only met one friend of hers who is magical."

Remus looked confused at her statement. "You _met_ a friend of hers who was a _wizard_? Where did you meet this person and who are they?"

"It was my daughter's birthday early in October and I wanted to send her a gift that was magical. So I asked Hermione to go to Diagon Alley with me. I had only been there once before with Eleanor to get her supplies and I knew I couldn't enter by myself," Rose began. The wizards around her were looking at each other with confused eyes and she continued her retelling of hers and Hermione's trip to the magical part of London earlier that month. "She led me through the barrier at the pub and we went shopping. I got my daughter an enchanted necklace at one of the shops as well as some sweets and we were stopped by someone - a man - on the alley. They were friends so we were led into his shop and we chatted for a bit before we left."

"He had a _shop_ in Diagon Alley? Who was her friend, Ms. Green? Who was this man?" The Auror named Harry asked her abruptly.

"I've met him before with my daughter. He owns the wand shop at Diagon Alley. Ollivanders? That was his name, Mr. Ollivander." Rose answered.

There was silence for a moment.

"Did he… did he look _surprised_ when he saw… when he saw _Ms. Watson_ in the street?" Harry asked, his voice turning hoarse.

Rose's brows wrinkled in confusion. "No, of course not. They were friends. From what I gathered, they'd known each other for a long time. Mr. Ollivander asked how James and Eleanor were doing in school and asked Hermione about her work."

Harry breathed in sharply and he raked a shaking hand through his hair.

 _Ollivander knew_.

Had he known what Hermione had done this whole time?

Had he known all along the reason she left?

Harry knew that Ollivander sold Buckbeak's wand to James. The boy had confirmed that. But what Harry had almost dismissed was the knowing look in Ollivander's eyes when he told Harry that _the boy and the wand belonged to one another_. Harry thought Mr. Ollivander said that because of James' temperament. But Mr. Ollivander's statement had taken a different meaning now. It sounded more personal, more _familiar_.

So he knew. He _must_ have.

Ollivander knew all along that James was his son.

Harry closed his eyes and took shaky breaths in. He felt Ron's hand on his arm and when he opened his eyes, he was met with Ron's understanding look.

"Thank you, Ms. Green, you were very helpful," Remus whispered. "I think we're done with the questions for now. Can we keep in touch? We might need to ask more questions later and we'd also like to keep you updated on how this case is progressing."

"Yes! Absolutely!" Rose replied. She dug through her pockets and pulled out a business card bearing a hospital's name with her name and number. She handed the card to Remus who took it gently and put it in his pocket. " _Please_ let me know if you find anything," she urged, her eyes turning watery again. "I haven't known Hermione for very long, but she is already one of my closest friends. Please, _please_ find her. I can't… I can't even imagine what would happen to James if she's not found safe."

Remus nodded his head. "We promise to do the best we could, Ms. Green. Now do you need help getting anywhere? We need to lock this place down. We can't leave you here."

Rose stood from her seat. "I should get to work. _Promise_ me you'll let me know when you find something?"

"Absolutely, Ms. Green. Ansel, please take Ms. Green to work. Meet us at the office later," Remus commanded. Ansel nodded his head and carefully ushered Rose down the entryway and out of the broken door. The rest of the Gryphons and Ron watched them depart silently.

Remus faced Harry. His captain's face was dark, perhaps even darker than before, as the realization that one of his oldest friends, literally in both ways, had kept a secret so big from him.

"Ollivander," Remus whispered. Harry gave a sharp nod of his head. " _And_ Minerva. We need to question them both, Harry."

"I know," Harry said quietly.

"Which one first, captain?" Remus asked, his voice lifting at the end.

"Diagon Alley, then Hogwarts," Harry answered. "Ron, you might as well come with us since you should be there for when we question the boys. You can be present in official Ministry capacity." Remus and Ron nodded their heads. Harry turned to the other two Gryphons. "Draco, Tonks, lock up here. Make sure the wards are _impenetrable_. No one comes and goes from this house without our knowing. Once you're done, get some rest and meet us in the office later."

Once his orders were relayed, the occupants of the house were mobilized. Three loud pops were heard as the captain and his two friends apparated from the household. The remaining witch and wizard worked in tandem to cast the strongest wards around the house. Every window was sealed and the front door was magiced back into place. They exited the house and cast a glamour around it. The marks on the doorframe and now upright door were vanished. The pumpkins lining the steps returned to their original splendour. The house looked immaculate to anyone but a select few who knew exactly what went on inside. Two more pops were heard and the street was quiet again.

* * *

Three wizards appeared at the apparition point of Diagon Alley to see the street just waking up around them. The sun was still low in the sky as early Sunday shoppers sipped hot teas while walking up and down the alley. Queues were starting to form outside of shops which were still closed. Many wizards who saw the trio of men gave curious looks and bows of respect.

Harry led the way to the middle of the street to a ramshackled old shop he knew so well. Two pillars with peeling grey paint flanked a large window displaying a solitary wand on top of a dusty velvet box. The sign at the top of the window in gold letters read "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." The sign read "Open" so Harry grasped the brass handle and led Ron and Remus inside.

There was a little chime from the doorbell and the men filtered inside. They stood awkwardly in the cramped quarters in front of the desk as they waited for Mr. Ollivander to emerge from the back, their forms so much larger than what the space could accommodate. A head peeked from further inside the shop and the short form of Mr. Garrick Ollivander strode forward to greet them.

"Gentlemen, to what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked once he was in the receiving area. Remus and Ron smiled at him and nodded in greeting from behind Harry, but their dark haired captain looked at him quite stonily. Ollivander sighed and sat down behind the desk. He had been waiting for this since that day in July. He waved his wand and the sign at the front flipped to "Close".

"Hermione… and James," Harry whispered. "You knew all along." It was more of an accusatory remark than a question. Harry's emerald eyes probed Garrick's silver cat-eyes for answers and Garrick's gaze did not waver.

He nodded. "I did, yes," Garrick replied.

"How could you not tell me?!" Harry exploded in question. Ron's hand came to grip his shoulder from behind as he demanded answers from his old friend.

"It was not my story to tell, Mr. Potter," Garrick answered gently.

Harry breathed deeply as he tried to keep his emotions in check. His eyes drifted from the silver orbs and darted around the place, willing himself to not lose control in front of his friends.

"We're not here to discuss the past, Mr. Ollivander," Remus said firmly from behind, and Harry could tell that, though silent, his name was included in the list. "We came to see you today because Ms. Granger is in trouble. Her house had been broken into and she had been taken. We think it was because of her work."

Garrick's gaze shifted from the man at the front of the trio to the brunette behind him. Silver eyes squinted in worry. "Is James alright?" He asked.

Remus stepped forward and nodded. "Physically, yes, but he's worried. They were talking through two-way mirrors when Ms. Granger was attacked and taken."

Garrick's eyes closed in distress. "My goodness. No child should have to witness that."

"If you know _anything_ about Ms. Granger's work, then please tell us. It will help us in finding her, Mr. Ollivander." Remus urged.

"Of course, Mr. Lupin," Ollivander said. "But I'm afraid I don't know much. Hermione doesn't write to me specifics about her work. Though recently, she did start expressing an interest in staves."

"Staves?" Ron, who had been silent this whole time, asked in confusion.

Ollivander nodded his head. "Yes, staves, Mr. Weasley. A staff is like a wand but slightly different. For one, it's longer, usually much longer than a person's forearm and could even extend to the ground. While a wand has magical _core_ , its main purpose is to be a _channel_ of one's magic. It can have residual magic from its last owner, sure, but a wand in the hands of a Muggle would be nothing more but an explosive stick - no controllable magic can come from it. A staff, on the other hand, is inherently and wholly magical. It's no longer just a channel for magic but an instrument of magic. A staff in the hands of a Muggle could do great things."

Ron's brows wrinkled after Mr. Ollivander's explanation. "That sounds awfully dangerous. Have you ever seen an actual staff?"

The older man shook his head in the negative. "I have not, Mr. Weasley. I've heard stories about legendary staves but I have never seen one myself. They're _extremely_ difficult to make since the craft of staff-making have been lost over the years. A staff isn't a free-for-all either. They're not like wands where you can use it to cast virtually any spell. A staff is more restricted in that its magical abilities are predetermined."

"Did Ms. Granger tell you why she was asking those questions?" Remus asked.

Ollivander shook his head no.

"And when was the last time you saw her, Mr. Ollivander?"

"I saw her in person just earlier this month. Her and her friend Rose visited Diagon Alley and we ran into each other," Ollivander replied.

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," Remus said.

"No problem at all, Mr. Lupin. Please keep me updated. And please… please find her," Ollivander said, his gaze shifting to look at their silent leader.

Remus and Ron gave another nod of their heads in goodbye and turned to exit the shop. Harry looked at Garrick silently before turning his back and following the two through the door. Just before he exited, Garrick called out.

"Mr. Potter," Garrick said softly. Harry paused and after a second turned and looked back to his old friend.

"Harry," Garrick began again, standing from his seat. " _I_ am truly sorry. But please… give Ms. Granger a chance to explain."

Harry looked at the man, his face in anguish. For a minute they stood with no words passed between them. And then Harry turned, pushed the door opened, and walked out of the shop.

* * *

Her body ached all over.

Hermione couldn't tell if it was because of the spell that hit her earlier or the fact that she laid on a cold, hard floor.

Her hand reached around her, found nothing but hard surface, and she pulled herself up to sit. God, she hurt _everywhere_. Her shoulders were knotted, her back felt as if an elephant walked over it, and her head was pounding like the steady beat of a drum. She shut her eyes to keep the room from spinning and brought her other hand to her face. Through half-closed eyes she glimpsed the silver bracelet around her wrist which James had given her and her heart ached. She worried about her son.

An opening of a door drew her head up and she looked to see Demetre Demos walk into the room flanked by two other wizards. She lowered her hand, willed her head to stop pounding, and stared down the bastards who took her.

She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her in distress.

"I see that you're up, Ms. Watson," Demos said, his voice light and friendly.

Hermione remained silent, only stared.

His hazel eyes narrowed slightly. "You know I'm a _very_ busy man, Ms. Watson, _Jane_. And I know how much you want to go back to your home in London. So let me just ask you _one more time_ so you and I can move on with our lives," he said, his voice carrying an air of superiority and false benevolence.

"Where. Is. It?"

Nothing but silence.

He snarled and stalked further into the room. He knelt down in front of her and grabbed her chin roughly so he could look at her in the eyes.

"WHERE IS THE FUCKING STAFF?!" He yelled.

Hermione could see how frustrated he was. How angry. Those hazel eyes of his were dark with fire and fury. He was cracking, she knew. But yet, he wouldn't kill her. That's clear to her now. He was after one thing and she knew that _he_ knew he would _never_ find it if he killed her.

She just had to hold on a little longer. Her son… James… James would tell Minerva. And she would alert the authorities. She had told her old professor _enough_. Not all of it for that would risk Professor McGonagall's safety if it were ever found out Hermione told her about her work. But she had told Minerva _enough_ so that she knew whom Hermione was working for and the criticality of her discovery.

She remained silent.

Demos growled. "Talk you fucking bitch!" He yelled and squeezed her chin harder.

Her eyes held defiance. She would not give. He would never get his hands on the staff if she could help it.

An animalistic sound erupted from his throat and he pushed her head away in disgust. He stood up, stalked towards the two wizards who remained observing by the door, and turned around again to face her.

Oh he was really angry now. Those hazel eyes had turned almost black with fury. His face was scrunched up in incensed rage.

"If you won't talk, then I hope you _scream_ ," he said menacingly. His wand was suddenly in his hands again. He pointed it at her and said a word that sent her whole world into dizzying pain. " _Crucio!_ "

Pins and needles and hot licks of fire enveloped her body. She collapsed on the ground, her mouth opened in a silent scream as intense pain she had only felt once before assaulted her senses. Tears spilled from her eyes but she held her screams in.

' _Just hold on, Hermione_ ,' she told herself. ' _Just hold on_.'

The pain consumed her and her world turned black again.

* * *

The three men congregated inside Professor McGonagall's office in silence. None of them knew what to say, their heads muddled with thoughts. Remus kept opening and closing his mouth, not quite sure how to start the interrogation of a woman he had grown to respect so much over the course of his life. Ron was determined to remain silent unless it was absolutely necessary to speak and Harry… Harry looked to be sick and in pain. He kept his eyes trained to the bookshelf behind her desk. He couldn't look at her for fear of what he would say.

Minerva McGonagall's voice broke the silence for them. "Gentlemen, I know you are here to ask me about Hermione. So please, go ahead," she said. Her voice was soft, resigned. Ron looked at his old professor and saw how tired she looked. She seemed to have aged so much since the last time he saw her at a Burrow fete and he worried for her.

Remus' eyes quickly darted towards Harry but his captain was resolute in not speaking. "Professor McGonagall," Remus began. "Minerva, we have good reason to believe Ms. Granger was kidnapped because of her work. We ask that you tell us _anything_ you know about what she was working on. She also told the boys to find you because _she has been found out_. We need to know what she meant by this." Remus said.

Minerva's face was grim when she listened to Remus talk. After he stopped, she waited a moment before opening her mouth to speak. "She wrote to me last month, telling me she had found out something disturbing about the man she was currently working for and asked to talk by floo and to burn the letter," she said. Her hands wrung together on her lap as she looked at the three men, her old students, who were looking at her so intently. "So the following day, we did. Hermione told me that the man whom she was working for - she didn't tell me his name - was a director of a museum. She was hired to research and try to prove the existence of mythological objects. And, moreover, to locate them, or what remains of them, if they did exist."

"That sounds like quite a project," Ron murmured, incredulous. "Almost like a treasure hunt."

Professor McGonagall's mouth curved up slightly at one side. "I thought that too, Mr. Weasley. But… but Ms. Granger said that she actually _located_ one of the items. And she went and _found_ it." She said. Another breath, and she continued her tale. "It was the reason she wanted to speak to me. She needed advice on the best way to _hide_ it. She was convinced the man she was working for wanted to use it for ill intentions. She met with him, you see, and she said that she couldn't trust him. He seemed dangerous and cunning, she said. She found out he was a wizard - he didn't know she was a witch - and he kept on asking and insisting she focused her research on this one item. It was clear to her that he wanted it found and her gut told her not to tell him that she did in fact locate it."

"What was this item?" Remus asked.

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "She didn't tell me. Moreover, when Hermione went to get it, she found out it was enchanted. It was more reason for her to keep its existence hidden from the man. She wanted to study it, truly understand it, because that might tell her why he wanted it so badly."

"She should have brought it forward to the authorities. The Ministry would have secured it." Remus said.

Her gaze shifted quickly to Harry's face before looking at Remus again. "I said the same but she had her reasons. She would rid of it eventually, she said, after she had studied it. She assured me she was safe and had taken all precautions. _He_ wouldn't find out she knew of it or had it."

"What did you tell her, then? How did you say she should hide it?" Remus asked.

Professor McGonagall blinked. "I told her to use Transfiguration, of course. The best way to hide something is to hide it in plain sight. I don't know if she did end up transfiguring it to something else, but… but I hope she did. Clearly, the man found out she had it," she said. She chewed on her lower lip and looked earnestly at the men on the other side of her desk. "Gentlemen, you _have_ to find her. She believed this man to be dangerous - that was why she did this - and she believed this item - whatever it might be - cannot fall into the wrong hands. You _cannot_ let that happen."

Remus gave a nod. "We're doing our best, Professor McGonagall. We'll take our leave now. Thank you for all of your help."

Before they could all walk out of her office, she called out. "Mr. Potter, please wait a moment. Mr. Lupin, Mr. Weasley, would you mind giving us a couple of minutes to ourselves please?" She asked.

Remus and Ron looked at Harry who only gave a small nod of his head. The two turned on their heels and shuffled out of the room.

Once there were only the two of them in the room, Minerva reached into one of her desk drawers and pulled out a bulky envelope. She rose from her seat, rounded her desk, and walked towards Harry. If it were possible, he stiffened even more when she approached him. Anguish and betrayal were clearly written on his face and she felt tears welling on the corner of her eyes when she looked at him.

"Mr. Potter… Harry... I know that I can't even begin to ask you for your forgiveness," she said softly. "But I am _truly_ sorry for keeping this from you and for you having to find out this way." She said. "Please consider this as my way of starting to make amends." She extended the envelope with one arm and waited for his action.

He looked at her. She was more than a coworker to him, much more than an old professor. She was a _friend_ , a _good_ friend in fact. If Molly Weasley was like a mother figure to him since his own mother was dead, then Minerva McGonagall was like the aunt he wished he always had. She was strict and firm but kind and honest. She was a role model. She protected him, and she believed him, and she stood by him in his darkest days. They fought a war together, for God's sake. She was his _family_.

It was the reason why her betrayal, her secret, was like a knife to the back.

Wordlessly he took the envelope from her hands. He put it in the pocket of his robes. With one last look, he turned and walked out of her office door.

Minerva stared at the wooden door closing slowly. Her lips were pursed and the tears did spill from her eyes.

He may never be able to forgive her, but she hoped to all that was good that her two most beloved students would be able to reconcile with each other for the sake of a precious little boy she so treasured.

* * *

They waited in Harry's bedchambers at the lower level of Hogwarts to interview the boys. The door opened and Albus Dumbledore came into the room with Nate Weasley and Teddy Lupin tailing behind him.

"Dad!" They said simultaneously and rushed forward past Professor Dumbledore to hug their fathers who stood beside Harry. He was silent as he watched his godsons in his friends' embrace, something akin to jealousy and longing building in his chest. He closed his eyes to stamp down the dreadful feeling.

"Gentlemen, I will take my leave," Professor Dumbledore said softly. There was understanding and sadness in those blue eyes of his. With one more knowing look to the group, he turned to leave and shut the door behind him.

Teddy extracted himself from Remus' embrace. "Dad, Uncles, are you here because of James' mum?" He asked softly.

Remus looked at Harry who was still just standing silently and wiped away at a stray piece of hair from Teddy's forehead. "Yes we are, son. We need to ask you some questions about Ms. Watson so we can find her. Would that be okay?" He asked as he looked at Teddy and Nate.

Nate let go of Ron and nodded his head. "We'll do _anything_ to help you find Ms. Watson, Uncle Remus. James is our best friend and she's… she's _so nice_."

Remus smiled softly. "Well, let's start with that. Why do you say she's nice? Have you spoken to her a lot?"

"James told us about the mirror when we had the Quidditch tryouts last month," Nate recalled. "And he introduced us to his mum. We would speak to her sometimes when her and James are talking at night and if we ask her really nicely she would sometimes help us with homework. Do you remember that potions essay I wrote to you about, dad? The one I got a good mark on?" Ron nodded his head with a small smile on his lips. "Ms. Watson helped with that! She's really, _really_ great."

Ron ruffled Nate's hair. "That's good to hear, bud."

"Did Ms. Watson ever tell you about what her job was? What she does for a living?" Remus asked.

Teddy pursed his lips. "No, but James did. I asked him why he liked to read so much and he said he got it from his mum. She's a researcher, he said, so she reads all the time. He said their house was like a library!"

Remus smiled again. "That's right, it was. Did he or Ms. Watson tell you two about her latest project?"

Nate shook his head negative. "No, I don't remember hearing anything about it," he said with a frown on his face. Teddy agreed. Nate's eyes turned worried when he looked at his dad and Uncles again. "Will she be alright? She _has_ to be alright. James… James can't lose his mum too." He said solemnly.

Another stab. Harry could feel his control deteriorating fast.

"We are doing our best," Remus answered, and squeezed Nate's shoulder tightly. "It's our job to help people like Ms. Watson. We're working very hard on this boys, I promise."

Nate and Teddy nodded, appeased by his answer but concern still evident on their faces.

"Why don't we get some lunch before we leave for London?" Ron suggested. "I haven't had a Hogwarts meal in a long time!" He said enthusiastically. Ron's gaze shifted to Harry, and one look told him that his best friend was close to the edge. "I think your godfather needs some time to get some items sorted out in his office before we leave again."

"Actually," Harry began, his voice hoarse. "Do you know where James is? I need to speak with him for a little while."

Teddy's eyes turned sad when he nodded his head. "He's at the Quidditch field, Uncle Harry. He's been wanting to be alone and didn't want to speak to anyone."

Harry nodded his head. "Thank you," he said and turned to leave his office.

He walked through the halls with purpose. The heels of his boots clicked against the marble and his cloak billowed behind him. He passed many students who greeted him and he simply gave a tilt of his head in response. His face was tight with the emotions he had willed himself to keep hidden all throughout that morning. He _needed_ to see James. He needed to see _his son_.

* * *

Harry found James sat underneath the familiar oak tree off to the side of the Quidditch pitch that had become _their_ place. Every morning with no fail, James would wait for Harry to descend from the skies by that oak tree to just have a talk before breakfast. It had become something Harry looked forward to every morning since he enjoyed the boy's company so much. They would talk - about Quidditch, about James' classes, about Hogwarts and life in general. James would tell Harry about Teddy's and Nates' antics and Harry would laugh since his godsons were always a riot. When the boy asked about his work as an Auror, Harry told him the truth. Not going into detail, of course, but enough to sate Jame's curiosity about the job of being a dark wizard catcher. He had many questions and Harry answered them all; sometimes telling him things Harry had never told anyone before. Personal things, like how Harry felt when one of his raids went awry and they lost a civilian. Or how difficult it always was to be away from family. They talked about family too. To Harry, that word meant the Weasleys, the Gryphons, Sirius, and Hogwarts. To James, Harry soon found out, that word only meant his mum. Harry had wanted to ask about James' father before but always held himself back. It wasn't his place to ask, Harry thought, and James had always seemed _protective_ of his mother. Not _evasive_ since Harry didn't ask any prying questions, but protective nonetheless.

Funny that it turned out _he_ was actually James' father.

Actually, no. Not funny at all.

The sound of footsteps on the grass drew James' attention. He continued to sit underneath the tree, but his head turned.

"Guys, I would really appreciate - PROFESSOR POTTER!"

A blur of black and Harry felt strong arms gripping him around the waist. Harry took a long breath in as he put his hands on James' shoulders and squeezed. He felt the boy's shoulders shaking underneath his hands. He extracted himself from James' grip and knelt in front of him.

With Harry on his knees, his own eyes were levelled with James'. He saw that the tears were back. Those brown eyes, _Hermione's_ brown eyes, were filling with tears at the corners as James looked scared and hopeful and worried at the same time.

How could Harry have been so blind?

James looked exactly like Hermione, except for the hair which was all _his_. Those eyes, the nose, the mouth. Harry could see an eleven year old Hermione Granger in them.

"Did you find my mum? Is she okay?" James asked. His fists were clenched on either side as he looked hopeful towards the man whom he believed would make things alright again.

Harry smiled sadly at his son. "We're still looking, James. My team and I came back here to ask Professor McGonagall some questions, and to ask you, and Nate, and Teddy some too. We've already asked the boys, but would it be okay if we just… talk for a while?" Harry asked.

The tears did spill this time when James heard his mum still remained lost. The boy let out a breath of resignation but nodded his head at Harry. There was a shift in his demeanor which Harry noticed as he turned and sat back down underneath the oak tree. Harry followed his lead.

From their location, Harry could see the whole Quidditch field stretched out before him. He glanced at the quiet boy on his right. Aside from the tears which were drying in his eyes, James looked almost fine. His back was ramrod straight as he gazed out into the Quidditch field, lips were pursed as no sobs escaped, and his arms were wrapped tightly around his legs which he had drawn up to his chest. His face was impassive. No sunshine bright smiles this time, but no grimace of fear either.

It wasn't how an eleven year old boy should be at a moment like this and Harry felt his heart ache. Like him, his son was trying to hold it all in.

Instinctively Harry's arms reached around James' stiff shoulders and brought the boy to his side. Harry felt James' shoulders sag, his control waning. A minute later and James was fully crying into Harry's chest. Harry held him, his right arm tight around the boy as he remained to be the pillar of strength and protection. No words were said as Harry let James cry, but a few tears did spill from his eyes too.

The son and the father cried tears for the same person but for different reasons.

The son cried in worry and in fright. He cried for fear for his mother, anger at her abductors, and hope that she would be found safe and returned to his life. He cried for the wish that everything would be as they were before she was taken.

The father cried in pain and heartache. He shed tears for the missed opportunities and the time lost. He cried for the betrayal he felt and for the anger he couldn't let go. He cried for her, too. He wanted her found and _needed_ her to be safe. He cried for _him_ , because despite the fury he felt for being kept in the dark, for being left behind, he _knew_ he still loved her. He could not stop loving her, especially now that he knew she gave him a son.

And he cried for his son, for James. Because as much as Harry wanted to tell the boy that _he_ was his father, he knew he couldn't do it at this moment. It just wouldn't be right.

Harry kept his arm around James until the boy's sobs quieted down. The boy peeled himself from Harry's side and looked at the man who held him when his control broke. "I'm… I'm sorry for crying, Professor Potter. It's not helpful. Didn't you say you wanted to ask me questions?"

Harry raised his hand and brushed away at James' tears. "You should _never_ be sorry for crying, James," he said. The boy only nodded silently. "Can you tell me about your mum? Do you know what it was that she was working on? We think that she may have been taken because of her work."

At this, James frowned in thought. "She started a new project before I went to Hogwarts," he began. Harry nodded his head. "It had something to do with Greek mythology - I know this because I _loved_ reading about them!" James exclaimed. "Mum asked me about a couple of stories, actually. We talked about Mt. Olympus and the Greek gods."

"Did she ask you anything specific about them?" Harry asked. "Especially about any mythological items?"

James squinted his eyes in recollection. "She did ask me what I know about each of the gods, especially the weapons they carried. One of my favourite series is _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_ , so I read up on Greek myths a lot! We talked about Zeus and his thunderbolts and shield, Poseidon with his trident, and Artemis with her bow and arrows. But… these are all just _myths_ Professor Potter," James said with a frown. "They're just stories. Do you reckon these myths was why my mum was taken?"

Harry returned his gaze to the lush green field in front of them. "That's what we're trying to figure out, James."

James nodded slowly. "I don't really remember anything else about mum's work, Professor Potter," he said. "I left for Hogwarts soon after."

"That's alright. Can you… can you tell me more about your mum? How is she like?" Harry asked, a small quiver in his voice as he asked about Hermione.

At this question, James' gaze turned wistful and a small smile played on his lips. "She's great, Professor Potter. She is the smartest and nicest and best person I know," he said as a matter-of-fact.

"You two are really close, huh?" Harry asked, though it was less of a question and more of a statement.

James nodded. "Yes, she is my best friend," James said. "It was always just mum and I. My grandparents died before I was born and I never knew my father." His voice turned soft when he spoke about the missing piece of his family.

Harry closed his eyes to calm his beating heart. "Do you know anything about your dad?"

James recalled the talk he and his mum had when he found out he was a wizard. That remained to be the only conversation they had about his father, and James could remember her tear-stained face as she spoke about the man whom she left behind and the life she walked away from.

Because _he_ loved another.

"He didn't love her," James said plainly.

Harry felt as if he had been punched in the gut. "What?" He asked in a choked whisper.

James turned to look at Harry, not knowing every word he said was like a searing hot knife into the man's chest. "My father didn't love my mum. He was in love with another person, so she felt she had to leave when she found out she was pregnant with me."

"Did she… did she tell you this herself?" Harry asked, his voice a mixture of pain and disbelief.

James nodded slowly. "She didn't want to get in the way of his happiness," he said, quoting Hermione from more than a year ago, word for word. "She left to protect _him_ and to protect _me_. She loved him so much, and she still does. I just know it."

* * *

Later that afternoon, Ron Weasley returned to the Weasley-Lovegood household to find peace of mind. Harry joined him and Remus after lunch and after speaking with James; his best friend's face even more stoic than before. He was given thanks by Remus for assisting in their interviews, and told to return home with promises that he would be alerted of any breaks in the case. The two Gryphons apparated back to the Ministry while Ron apparated back home.

He tiptoed through the grand manor silently. It was time for the kids' naps and he didn't want to wake any of them. All he wanted was his wife's loving embrace as he told her about the situation that drew him from his house earlier that morning. When he received Remus' urgent floo message that he needed to go to an address immediately since Harry needed him, he didn't ask any questions. He only kissed Luna goodbye with promises to return as soon as he could. He wasn't expecting the _why_ behind Remus' call, and the werewolf's debrief before he entered the house that morning stunned him.

Ron made his way to the master bedroom and saw his lovely wife sitting by the window reading a book. It was _Hogwarts, A History_ , Ron noted, as he made his way forward. He wordlessly took her in his arms and just embraced her.

"Hello, love," Luna said with a smile, and she turned his head to kiss him on the lips. "Was everything okay? How was Harry?"

At her question, Ron buried his face into the waterfall of blonde hair and squeezed her tighter.

"Ah, so not everything is okay then," she said, her voice like a faerie's, soft and musical.

"No," Ron breathed. "Everything is _not_ okay," he said.

She led him to the bed and sat with him against the headboard. She curled up in his arms and he rested his chin atop her head. "Tell me what happened," Luna said softly.

So he did. Ron started from the moment he got to the house. He told her what Remus told him about the case, about _who_ was abducted, and what they had found out about Harry's _son_. Ron told Luna how he refused to believe Remus until he saw Harry himself, looking so pale and lost and _so angry_ , with the proof of a picture clutched in his hands. Ron recounted the day to her; told her about meeting Rose, about Ollivander, Minerva, and Hogwarts. He told her how _their son_ was best friends with his best friends' son and the incredulity of it all.

Luna listened like how she always listened. She didn't say a word as Ron recounted his morning, only nodding her head in understanding while she stroked his chest.

He expelled a staggering breath and asked a question that had been in his mind since earlier that day. He didn't want to voice it since he knew he shouldn't be making comparisons, but it couldn't be helped. He was in the same circumstance as Harry all those years ago but look at where they were now. He was _happy_ with his family around him while Harry was devastated that his family had been kept from him for all these years.

"How could she just _leave him_ , Luna? I just… I _don't_ understand; I _can't_ understand. We found out _we_ were pregnant when you were barely seventeen and I had just turned eighteen. I was so scared of telling _anyone_ , but we made it through _together_. My parents were angry at first, and the whole damn world seemed to be in our business too," he said fiercely, his face filled with so much confusion. "The gossip, the threats, the whispers... they stopped eventually. _Why_ did Hermione leave? How could she just leave him?"

Luna burrowed her head into his chest and squeezed him tight around the waist.

"Love, you're not Harry Potter."

Four simple words which, even just a year ago, would have stirred some jealousy in Ron's chest.

Not this time, though.

No other words were necessary for Ron now understood exactly what Luna meant.

Bearing the name Harry Potter was like bearing a cross filled with expectations.

He wasn't Harry Potter and for that he was eternally grateful.


	16. Chapter 16

**per aspera ad astra  
** through hardships and to the stars

* * *

The museum loomed over the craggy hills of the Acropolis. It was an impressive structure of stone and concrete and the bright lights seen through its mostly glass windows seemed to double the number of stars in the sky. The place was still full of people as visitors tried to take in as much culture and art as possible before its door closed for the night.

A handsome couple linked arm in arm entered the museum. The woman was incredibly pregnant and her other arm supported her back as she waddled through the door. Her caramel skin was lightly coated in sweat as she and her partner walked towards admissions. Her partner was a handsome man of short build with blonde hair and a moustache to match.

"Hello! Welcome to the Acropolis Museum of Greece," the attendant at the counter said.

"Thank you. Two adult tickets please," the man requested.

The attendant blushed at the man's attentive smile. She noted that there was a bit of accent there, some kind of brogue, in the man's lilt.

"Here you are sir," she responded and told him the price. "Are you visiting?"

The man's smile grew wider. "Yes, you can say that. My wife and I are expecting our first so this is sort of our last trip before parenthood."

"Congratulations! I hope you enjoy Athens and our museum." The attendant said and then beamed at the woman smiling patiently at her husband's side.

"Thank you," the woman replied. "I know we came a bit late but are there any more tours that we could join?"

"You're in luck!" The attendant answered. "The last tour will depart in five minutes. It takes about an hour and the museum closes thirty minutes after that at 8. If you'd like to join, the tour will be starting at the _Goddess Nike_." She pointed to a towering statue of a woman in a flowing robe. The statue was missing its arms.

"Fantastic, thank you," the man replied. With a nod of goodbye, he ushered his wife further inside the museum. The attendant watched as his arm snaked around the back of his wife's waist while she leaned closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. The attendant sighed with longing before turning her attention to the next person in her queue.

* * *

"Why do I have to be the pregnant one?" Nova asked in a low grumble. "Wouldn't it have been easier if it were you?" She wiggled her midsection slightly and sighed at how heavy and hot it was. With the help of her wand she had made a makeshift belly for herself and fixed it underneath the billowy dress she wore. Her wand was secured at a holster strapped to her right forearm and hidden underneath the long sleeves of her dress.

"To spread the wealth," she heard in reply. "I've been pregnant before, so it's only fair. Besides, _someone_ needs to play the part of the husband."

Tonks grinned in disguise while Nova rolled her eyes. The tour of the museum had started thirty minutes ago. They trailed behind the group of Muggles oohing and aahing at the guide's descriptions of archaeological finds on the first floor of the Acropolis.

"Status?" They heard through the charmed earpieces they wore which were disguised as earrings.

"Just breaking free," Tonks murmured. The couple stopped following the group and Nova sat on a bench pretending to catch her breath. They made a show of Nova urging Tonks to follow the group and the husband did so grudgingly with promises to return to his wife as soon as the tour was over.

Their mission really began then. They had noticed armed guards, both Muggle and (more discreetly) wizard, stationed on every entrance, exit, and floor of the museum. The presence of the Muggle guards were expected but not the wizards. It gave the Aurors a clue that the person they were looking for was indeed in the building. But that also meant they needed to be careful. They couldn't cause too much disturbance whilst museum visitors were still around.

Nova, who sat on a bench near the restrooms, stood up from her seat. She waddled over to the door and pushed her way inside one of the stalls in the women's lavatories. Then, she reached underneath her dress and pulled out her commander's Invisibility Cloak. The fabric shimmered when Nova draped it around herself. She waited for silence before making her way out of the lavatories being careful not to bump into anyone.

She was able to slip into the fire escape behind one of the guards unnoticed and undetected.

"I'm under," she murmured. "And heading upstairs now." She began the ascent underneath the cloak.

The Gryphons was able to identify the _Mr. Demos_ Hermione worked with from the bits of information they received from Rose and Professor McGonagall. Demetre Demos was the director of the Acropolis Museum of Greece located in Athens. They had already checked his home and villa but neither he nor Hermione Granger were in them. The next place they needed to look was the museum itself. Procuring a floor plan of the entire museum came quickly after that for the Aurors. The large museum which stood just metres away from the Parthenon had three floors for all of its showrooms and exhibits. The fourth floor was reserved as office space while the basement was the museum's storage.

"Good," she heard Harry Potter say from her communication device. "Be careful, Nova. We have no indication whether or not magical wards are used in this museum."

"Yes, Sir," Nova replied. That was why she was chosen for this. Novella de Luca was an expert at disassembling wards.

"Tonks? Your status?" Harry asked.

They heard Tonks relay directions to the washrooms in broken Greek.

"I'm one of the curators now," she mumbled. "Knocked him out so he's sleeping in the staff room. I took his uniform and locked it."

"Your appearance?" They heard Remus asked.

Tonks rolled her eyes and replied. "Don't get your knickers in a twist; I didn't use his exact appearance." She glimpsed herself through a glass wall and saw a stout and pudgy man staring back with brown hair and dull brown eyes. Being a Metamorphmagus was a gift but the Gryphons would never implicate an innocent just to get an in.

"Good," Harry said through the earpiece. "Your position?"

"Heading towards the basement entrance as we speak," she replied.

"First floor is cleared," Yasmine's voice said. "About five wizards here, Commander. Two by the museum entrance, one by each of the fire escapes, and one by the basement entrance. Careful, Tonks."

Through their earpiece they heard a man accost Tonks.

"Your business here?" The man asked.

"I need to pick up the terracotta figure 549 from study gallery C. We're doing new photos for the pamphlets," Tonks replied in Greek.

The man considered her words for a minute. "Alright then. Go on down."

They heard shuffling from Tonks' communicator before hearing her whisper. "I'm in."

"Be careful," Harry stressed. "And the others?"

"Second floor is cleared too," Cyprian said. "Two wizards by the entrance, one on each fire escapes."

"Same for the third," added Theo.

"Okay, stay at your posts," Harry commanded. "Nova, Tonks, it's on you. What's the status up there, Nova?"

Nova had her wand out and was scanning the stairwell door to the fourth floor. With practiced movements, she cast a spell that would determine if protective charms were used at the exit. She was satisfied with the results of her spell and muttered the unlocking charm.

" _Alohomara_ ," she murmured. The door unlocked and she quickly grabbed the handle to prevent it from swinging too much forward on the other side. Squeezing herself into as small an opening as possible, Nova stepped foot on the fourth floor. "I'm in," she whispered. A quick glance around showed no one was with her. The reception room with its large crescent moon desk bearing the museum's name and logo was devoid of any occupants. She strained her ears and looked at the two hallways on either side of the desk. She could hear conversations in Greek flow down the hall but she saw no one.

"Demos' office is the last office in the east wing," Draco said through the device.

"Copy that, I'm heading there now," Nova said. Sticking close to the walls to avoid any collision, Nova slowly stepped towards one of the hallways.

The elevator dinged behind her. She pressed herself as close to the wall underneath the cloak and watched as a man briskly walked out. He was tall and built and he had a deep-set scowl on his face. His walk was quick and hurried causing the back of his suit jacket to billow behind him. Nova spied a wand handle sticking out from his pocket.

As silent as a mouse, she followed behind the man. He was heading in the same direction as her and his long strides soon led them to the last office in the east wing. The man didn't bother knocking. He opened the door and stormed in with Nova following right behind him.

"What the hell is taking so long, Demos?" The man growled. Nova huddled at one corner of the room and watched as the man behind the desk whom she recognized as Demetre Demos stood up. He was as handsome as the pictures she had seen from their research but there was a fierce scowl on his face as he looked at the intruder.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't come barging in here, Yaxley. It's bad for business," Demos replied.

Yaxley drew his wand and Demos did so as well. Nova watched wide-eyed as the two men stood with wands outstretched. There were snarls on their faces as they sized each other up.

"If I were you I would remember your _place_ , Demos," Yaxley said. "The Master is getting impatient. You were brought into our cause with one purpose only and that was to retrieve the staff. Without it, we have _no need_ for you."

Demos' eyes hardened and he lowered his wand in surrender. Yaxley smirked but kept his wand pointed. "I almost have it," Demos said, almost pleading. "Give me until tomorrow and I'll have it for you."

Yaxley's eyes narrowed. "You have twenty-four hours." Then the wizard cast a stinging hex towards Demos which drew a pained gasp from the museum director. Blood started to seep through his white shirt sleeve. "If I don't have the staff by tomorrow you'll experience pain far greater than that."

Yaxley kept his wand raised as he exited the room. Nova followed right behind him underneath the cloak all the while praying neither men would cast anymore spells so she wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. She didn't follow Yaxley all the way to the elevator. Instead, Nova leaned against the wall at a relatively quiet part of the floor and took a breath in.

"Commander? Did you hear all of that?" She whispered.

There was a pause and Harry Potter's voice, hard as steel and chillingly controlled, came through her communicator.

"Yes, I did."

* * *

Tonks whistled softly to herself as she carefully carried a box holding an ancient Greek figure. She had picked up the first piece she saw from the first study gallery she entered. However, instead of going back to where she came from, Tonks started to explore the basement. The conversation she overheard through her earpiece almost made her step falter.

Yaxley was one of Voldemort's Death Eaters they were unable to capture after the war eleven years ago. They were sure he had gone into hiding and had hoped that he died in a ditch somewhere. It seemed like they were only half right for it sounded like he was very much alive.

And he was working for someone he called The Master. Questions immediately raced through Tonks' mind.

Who was The Master?

What is the staff?

Why do they want it?

And, more importantly, was Voldemort still alive?

Tonks quickly dismissed the last question.

She was there during the battle. She was fighting alongside her husband against Dolohov and her dearest aunt Bellatrix. Voldemort's death in the hands of Harry caused the two Death Eaters to falter and they were bested by the Metamorphmagus and the werewolf. She saw the devastation in her aunt's face and heard her agonized cry for her master before Tonks' _Incendio_ engulfed her in flames.

Tonks knew with all of her being that Voldemort was dead.

So was The Master another dark wizard on the rise?

"What are you doing here?" She heard someone ask. From down the hallway, she saw two men standing guard in front of a large, steel door. One of them had his full body turned towards her and he had a glower on his face.

"I've just picked something up from the galleries for a shoot," Tonks replied back in Greek with a modest shrug. The hallway was wide but with sparse lighting. Most of the doors were marked and Tonks knew they led to large rooms containing some of the museum's artefacts either in storage or in study galleries.

"Well the exit is behind you so _leave_! There's nothing to see here," one of the men ordered. Tonks was about to reply when footsteps echoed from the other side of the hallway. She watched as Demetre Demos stomped through the dimly lit aisle with an entourage of men following behind him.

He looked absolutely angry and Tonks felt her heart beating faster as he immediately walked towards the guarded door. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand and he gave no care to the Muggle curator standing nearby. The two cronies opened the door without being asked and Demos stalked inside. Six of the men with him followed him while the other two doubled the number of guards outside the door.

"I said LEAVE!" The same man yelled at Tonks after closing the door behind Demos.

"R-right. Sorry. I'll be leaving now," Tonks stammered in disguise. She gave a bow and raised down the hallway.

Midway through, she whispered furiously into her communicator. "Commander, we need to act _now_. I think Hermione's in big trouble."

* * *

The light which drifted into the room when the door opened awoken Hermione from her fitful slumber. Heavy eyelids opened to see Demos walk towards her with a ferocious look on his face. His wand was clenched tightly in his hand and Hermione grimaced at being reminded of the _Cruciatus_ she had endured.

"Where is the staff?" Demos whispered menacingly. From behind him Hermione spied his cronies encircling the study gallery she was being kept locked in.

She didn't say anything but averted her gaze instead. Demos growled and painfully grabbed her jaw to force her to look at him.

"Tell me!" He yelled angrily. "This whole thing goes _beyond_ you, you little bitch! You DON'T want me telling my superiors that YOU are withholding something they've been looking for for a long time. They won't be happy and that little _curse_ from before is NOTHING to what they would do to you. You should be thankful I'm being so _patient_."

Something flashed in Hermione's eyes and the next second her right fist was colliding with Demos' jaw. There was a loud crunch followed by an animalistic howl as Demos dropped his hold on her to tend to his bruising mouth. The force knocked him onto his arse.

Her hand was stinging with pinpricks of pain but the surprised and pained look on Demos' face was worth it. "Damn you!" The wizard yelled.

The other men in the room started to approach the centre but Demos held up a hand. He tried to gracefully stand up from his position all the while clenching his jaw. When he was on his feet, he pointed his wand at Hermione.

"You're going to regret that! _Cru_ -"

But before the Unforgivable Curse could be uttered, multiple loud bangs were heard from outside of the room. Demos' head swivelled behind him as his men drew their wands and positioned themselves between Demos and the door.

Hermione, as with all of the wizards in the room, eyed the door apprehensively. They could hear more sounds now, sounds which Hermione could identify as spells and curses. Her heart started beating faster and just about jumped out from her chest when the door burst wide open and flew off of its hinges.

The next few minutes happened as if in slow motion for Hermione. Demos and his group of wizards didn't wait for the dust to settle. They immediately started firing spells at the entryway not caring who was on the other side.

" _Confringo_!"

" _Expulso_!"

It was chaos. Hermione tried to see who was on the other side but the men blocked her vision.

" _Expelliarmus_!"

The spell hit one of Demos' goons so hard that he was blasted backwards behind her. He crashed into one of the glass cases lining the wall adding onto the cacophony of noises around her. Hermione looked as the man moaned amidst the rubble he created. Broken glass, ceramic, and marble laid around him.

There was a break in the wall of men in front of her now and she could see the entryway illumined in bright light. All of her captors' spells were being absorbed by the white light and Hermione realized it was multiple _Protego_ shields cast on top of each other. She watched as halos of light moved inside the room one after the other. The one to her right moved so swiftly and quickly engaged with another one of Demos' men. The shield dropped and Hermione felt tears reaching her eyes. She watched as the female Auror in an oversized uniform gracefully dodge the _Petrificus Totalus_ thrown at her and retaliated with her own.

Tonks.

It was Tonks.

The Aurors were here.

She looked around her trying to see how she could help them. Demos and his men had pretty much forgotten about her after the Aurors interrupted their interrogation. But her wand had been taken and she didn't know where it was. Her body was still aching from the curses she had endured. No, she couldn't help the Aurors fight, Hermione thought. But she could help them by not getting in the way. If she decided to barge into the melee even with a wand, the Aurors might accidentally hit her, or worse, she hit one of them.

So Hermione watched from her position on the floor. Another woman followed behind Tonks, her colourful and flowy dress such a stark contrast against the blacks and greys everyone else around them were wearing. She was beautiful, this female Auror, but she moved with deadly intent as she engaged with another one of Demos' men.

Then Hermione watched as another familiar figure entered the scene. Remus, though older than she had last seen him, was fast and quick. He sent a stunner which brought down a heavy set wizard Tonks was fighting against and together they made good of another one.

Demos' men were falling one by one but the man himself was standing firm. He was skilled with a wand and Hermione watched as he dodged the spells thrown at him expertly. There was still commotion outside of the door that Hermione was certain more of his men came to assist.

She tore her eyes away from the Greek and looked to the entrance.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart almost stopped beating.

He came in like an avenging angel, so dark and full of purpose. He moved with grace and fluidity as he fired spells left and right. His green eyes were ablaze with anger and such intensity as he engaged in the fight.

There he was, she thought. Hermione let out a breath.

There was her saviour and her best friend.

There was the man who stole her heart all those years ago.

There was the only man she had ever loved.

And there was the man she ran away from.

Hermione couldn't make herself look away.

Even when his eyes met hers across the room, she couldn't look away from him. Even when those beautiful emerald orbs she had loved for so long looked at her with so much anger and pain, Hermione held their gaze with her own.

She felt everything as she watched him. Anxiety, fear, love, pain. Every emotion she had tried to bury over the past eleven years resurfaced at that very moment but one feeling trumped over all of the other.

It was regret.

Because one look from those cold, green eyes were telling and Hermione knew that _he knew_.

As she watched him, Hermione could no longer hide the fact that she had made a terrible mistake. She knew she shouldn't have left. She shouldn't have kept such a terrible secret. It was her own fear that made her leave despite the excuses she told herself and everyone else who knew. Her cowardice resulted in actions with irreversible consequences.

She felt so tired. Physically, magically, emotionally. Her throbbing headache finally forced her to look away and she cradled her head with one hand. The exhaustion from Demos' unknown spell, the _Cruciatus_ , and lack of food while in captivity was finally taking a toll on her body. She longed for the fighting to end and wished to be led away from the place but still the duel continued. Demos was formidable, but he was wavering. His men had been cut down to only two and Hermione saw more Aurors enter the room.

The shattering of glass made her look back. The burly wizard amongst the rubble had awoken. She watched him as he tried to stand up and saw as he felt around for his wand. It was too far away though and Hermione could see it on the floor closer to her. Curiously she watched as the man reached into his robes and her eyes widened when he pulled out a gun.

It all happened too quickly. The noise of the spell fight was still too loud. The Aurors weren't looking at the wizard they had initially downed. The man pointed his gun and aimed it at the Auror ahead of the whole charge. Hermione didn't have time to yell. She didn't have time to scream for them to take cover. So instead, she did what came instinctively to her. When she saw that gun point at Harry who was engaged in a fight with Demos, Hermione did the only thing she could do to help.

Willing her aching body to move, she put herself in its way.

The yell was almost drowned out by the loud bang.

She felt pain on her side.

And then all was black.

* * *

He was furious. The moment he entered the room with his wand blazing, he was angry. Seeing the bloody bastards with their wands out surrounding her as she lay helpless on the floor was blood-boiling.

Harry saw her immediately in the middle of the room. She looked so different yet the same, like an old friend who had grown into a stranger. Because that's exactly who she was now, he thought bitterly. A stranger.

The Hermione he knew would have _never_ done that to him.

Their eyes met and he felt a different kind of anger stirring in him. As he fired spells at the men who had taken her, Harry felt anger he had never known before.

It shocked him to be this angry at Hermione. He had never been this mad before, not even at that toad Umbridge, not at the clueless Fudge, not even at the bloody Dark Lord.

She broke his trust in the worst way imaginable.

She fractured something that Harry wasn't sure could ever be fixed.

He fuelled his fury into his fighting. He tore his gaze away from those sorry eyes and sent a _Reducto_ towards Demos. The man was forced to dodge, and in doing so gave Harry time to send a _Stupefy_ to the man Tonks and Remus were fighting. He went down with a thud. Demos countered with a _Crucio_ which Harry avoided easily.

He's not a bad fighter, Harry mused. But the older museum director was no match for the stamina and grace Harry had honed over the years of being an Auror. Already Harry could tell Demos was tiring and he knew it wouldn't be long until the wizard was disarmed and captured.

As he fired yet another spell, he saw her shift from the corner of his eyes. None of his Aurors have gotten to her yet due to the block at the door. Other wizards came to assist Demos which his men outside the room were currently dealing with.

He was about to fire the ending blow when he saw behind her. The man Tonks had sent towards the glass with the disarming spell was raising his hand. He didn't hold a wand but a gun.

"NO!" He yelled just as she stood and the gun fired.

Horrified, he watched Hermione fall to the ground like a broken ragdoll. Red pooled from the wound on her side.

" _STUPEFY_! _REDUCTO_!"

He didn't wait for Demos' stunned body to hit the ground. He didn't even spare a glance at the wizard he had undoubtedly killed with the reductor.

Harry rushed further into the room full of broken things and tried to stop the life from seeping out of the woman he thought he knew.

* * *

"Where are the bloody healers?!"

"Put pressure here and _don't_ move her."

"Hermione…"

She faded back into nothingness as the familiar yet anguished voice pleaded her name.

* * *

James held his mum's hand and he looked at her with pensive eyes. He was awoken very early that morning by Professor McGonagall with word that his mum had been found and rescued by the Aurors. Moreso, she had told him his mum had been transported from St. Mungo's and into Hogwarts' very own hospital wing.

Professor McGonagall didn't tell him what happened to his mum or why she was taken. She didn't explain why two Aurors stood guard outside of the hospital wing. The professor only assured him that his mum would be fine and, surprising James, gave him a hug. She left the hospital wing with Professor Dumbledore beside her to be alone with his mother. At that moment, James didn't really care about _what_ had happened and so he hadn't questioned the older professor. All he cared about was that his mum was safe and sound.

Now that he was reassured of this fact and had seen Madame Pomfrey fussing over his mum that morning, James allowed himself to think about the _what_ and the _why_.

What had happened to her?

Why was she taken?

He appreciated the proximity of his mum but his curious mind knew that it made more sense for his mother to recuperate in an actual hospital instead of the school's hospital wing. Why was she here instead of at St. Mungo's?

He looked at her sleeping form and frowned. She looked paler and thinner than he had last seen her at King's Cross. Her side was wrapped and bandaged as was her right hand. He gently moved her left hand to his mouth to kiss and the bracelet he had given her years ago twinkled in the light.

James knew his mother had secrets. He knew that his mother had a past he had never known before. Those were made very clear to him when it was revealed that he was a wizard and his mum, a witch. He had never questioned her before, though, except for that one moment in time when he asked why she left magic behind and who his father was. He knew it pained her to answer and so he had never asked again.

So James wondered if it was her past that had embroiled her in this mess. He wondered if it was all the secrets she had kept before that had put her in the hospital wing. He didn't know and not knowing made him worry.

He made a note then to find Professor Potter as soon as possible and to speak to him. He owed the Professor, the Auror, _everything_ for making true his promise of finding his mum. James wanted to thank him and to ask him the questions that were mounting. He trusted Professor Potter and he knew the man wouldn't lie to him.

A sound from behind him drew his attention from his mum and his eyes looked to the entrance of the private suite of the hospital wing. He saw the large door open and a familiar head poked inside.

"Hey mate," Teddy said with a smile. "Thought we'd have breakfast here with you. Professor McGonagall told us where you were when we got to the Great Hall."

The door opened to reveal a grinning Nate behind it as well. The two boys were carrying trays with plates full of breakfast things and goblets of orange juice. James found himself smiling as his best friends walked inside. They set the trays down on top of a small wooden table and positioned chairs around it. James left his mum's bedside and joined his friends around the table.

"Thanks guys," James said with a heartfelt smile. For the food, for the friendship, for everything, he silently added.

"Breakfast _is_ the most important meal of the day," Nate said wisely. Teddy only grinned and the boys dug in.

After their empty trays were taken by Hogwarts' house elves, James went back to Hermione's bedside while Nate and Teddy remained seated around the table. Nate was hurriedly finishing up a Potions essay due in class in an hour while Teddy was snickering at his agony.

"You should have done this paper a week ago," James said from his spot.

"I wholeheartedly agree!" Teddy said in reply. Nate only rolled his eyes at the two and grumbled.

Teddy stood from his seat and approached James. He put a hand on his best friend's shoulder and squeezed. "How are you doing? How's your mum?"

"I'm… okay, I guess," James replied. He heard the quill scratching stop and Nate joined their huddle. "I'm glad she's here and she's safe but I just want her to wake up and be… _really_ okay again," he said slowly.

"Do you know when she'll wake up?" Nate asked softly.

James shrugged. "Madam Pomfrey came in this morning and told me it probably won't be for a day or two. She said mum is magically and physically exhausted. She keeps giving her these potions." He gestured at the bedside table stacked to the brim with small bottles.

"If Madam Pomfrey says it so, then it must be!" Nate replied. "Dad told me how he and Uncle Harry always got into trouble at school. They ended up here a lot. But look at how they are now - they're fine!"

James cracked a smile at that. He appreciated how his friends were trying to make him feel better.

"By the way… have you seen Uncle Harry?" Teddy asked him.

At this, James shook his head. "No, I haven't seen him yet. I don't know where he is. I want to speak to him to ask about what happened and… to say thanks."

Teddy nodded in understanding. "He'll be around. He's probably just finishing up the case," he said.

James thought that the case didn't look finish to him since the guards were still outside his mum's room.

There was a gentle rap on the door and Madam Pomfrey came inside.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said kindly. "I appreciate you looking over Ms. Granger for me while I was gone but I do need to tend to her now," she ushered them towards the door.

James' mouth opened to protest and Madam Pomfrey tsked. "Mr. Watson, you and your friends have class soon. You can come visit again during lunch. Your mum _wouldn't_ want you to miss class because of her," she said sternly. "Besides, there are people outside waiting for you. For _all_ of you."

At her words, the boys looked at each other curiously. James gave the bed one last worried glance before he let himself be led away from the private wing by Nate and Teddy.

"Why did Madam Pomfrey call your mum Ms. Granger?" Nate whispered as they walked away. "Isn't her last name Watson?"

"It's a long story…" James replied, but his voice trailed off when he saw the group of people waiting for them outside.

Out of the ten people in the waiting area of the hospital wing, he only recognized a few of them. He could guess who the other people were, though, especially as his best friends gasped in recognition.

"What are you doing here?" Nate asked as he rushed forward to give his mum a hug around the waist. "Is everything okay? Where are the kids?"

James watched as the blonde woman smiled gently at Nate and squeezed him. "The kids are fine. Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur are looking after them. We're here because… because _we are friends_ with Ms. Watson. We're here to visit." She said this as she looked straight at James.

James' eyes grew at her statement and Teddy led him towards the group. He was introduced to Teddy's mum and dad (who were Aurors as well and came to relieve the other two Aurors from their guarding duty), Draco (another Auror who gave him a firm handshake), Fred and George Weasley (whom he had met before at Diagon Alley and gave him grins), and then to Nate's mum and dad.

Nate's mum crouched in front of him so she could look at him. James thought that she had such pretty eyes. "Hi, James. My name is Luna. I knew your mum from school." Luna gave him a smile and offered a hug.

James breathed deeply and went into her arms. The feeling of such motherly embrace made it a little harder for James to breathe. He could feel the tears rising to the surface as he tried to process all of his emotions and what he had learned.

These were his mum's _friends_. From school. From her past life.

It must have been years since she had seen them and yet here they were… concerned for her health, wondering how she was doing, and meeting him for the very first time.

James felt security and a strange sense of familial affection for the woman who held him. Her hug was gentle yet firm and it reminded him of his very own mother. How he missed his mum's hugs.

A hand resting on his shoulder made him look up. He saw the tall, redheaded man with his shining blue eyes looking at him with a soft smile. James thought at that moment that Nate looked very much like his father.

"Hello, James," the man said. "I'm Ron Weasley, Nate's dad, and… your mum was one of my best friends." It confused James why Mr. Weasley faltered a bit when he said that. It even looked as if the man was holding back his own tears. And yet, James did what he had learned from his mum over the years. He stepped away from Mrs. Weasley's hug and extended his hand towards his best friend's dad.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley," James said politely.

Ron firmly grabbed his hand and shook.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway behind where Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore stood which brought the small reunion and introduction to a halt. A figure emerged from the corner which drew a breath from every adult just as a delighted yell of his name erupted from one of the boys.

"Professor Potter!" James shouted and rushed towards the man. His arms circled around the professor's waist as the older man bent down to take him into his arms.

"James," Harry said with difficulty. He was shaking - he couldn't help it - as he held onto the boy.

James stepped back from the embrace just a bit to look at him. Professor Potter looked tired and defeated. He looked downright weary and… and broken. James had noticed this when Professor Potter came to see him yesterday to ask questions about his mum. The Auror who left Professor Dumbledore's office _that_ night was so different than the man James saw after. When Professor Potter made him a promise on Hallowe'en, he was so determined and looked so formidable. That wasn't the same man James saw yesterday and definitely not the same now.

Something had changed in Professor Potter and James worried.

Green eyes met brown eyes and James stepped back into the hug. He poured his gratitude into the embrace, as well as comfort and understanding even though he didn't know what troubled the professor.

"Thank you, Professor Potter," James said thickly. He felt the Auror breathe deeply. "Thank you for saving my mum."

"I would never break my promise to you, James," Harry said with so much emotion.

James didn't see the tear escape from Harry's eyes. He didn't hear the laboured breaths coming from the adults behind them nor did he see their intense looks towards the pair. James didn't see Nate's dad draw Nate into an embrace nor did he see Teddy's father do the same. He didn't see the grins fall from the twins' faces and he most certainly didn't see the tears from Mrs. Wesley's eyes as they watched the reunion.

To James, all he knew at that moment was that his mum was safe and recuperating while the man who saved her was hurting.

He didn't know why Professor Potter was hurting but James didn't dwell on that. He hugged him all the same and poured reassurance into the embrace, just like how his mum would hold him when he needed comforting.

Instinctively, he murmured softly. "Everything is going to be okay, Professor." He said it with so much confidence and so much hope.

Harry only squeezed him tighter. How ironic it was that the child was comforting the adult.

Harry felt torn in two. Half of him was so angry with Hermione. That half felt resentful, pained, and it was the half of him that _didn't_ want to care. Meanwhile, the other half of him worried. He worried about his old best friend, the mother of his child, and the woman he knew he still loved.

He didn't know how to reconcile both halves and it was only James' calming presence which kept him grounded.

Harry so very badly wanted to tell James the truth. He ached to tell _his son_ that his father was _right here_. He wanted to get back the years he had missed out on and he longed to start building new memories with James as father and son.

But Harry knew now was not the right time. Telling James the truth… talking to Hermione… those would need to come later.

Harry simply hugged his son. James was okay, Hermione was safe, and now _he knew_. Those things would have to do for the moment.

There was always tomorrow.

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : It's been a while since I've updated, so I thank you for continuing to read! I am humbled by those who messaged me privately and asked how I was doing. I thought I'll give a little bit of update on what has been happening in my life since I feel like we're all friends here. Long story short, I bought a house with my boyfriend at the time, we went on holiday (to London, England!), and it was where my boyfriend became my fiancé! It's been a really hectic summer with a lot of life changes but I couldn't be happier. I am so, so glad to finally get back to writing after weekends spent house hunting and planning. I am delighted to continue this story since I had really missed James and the rest of the cast! As always, thank you for continuing to read and for sticking with me. Cheers!


	17. Chapter 17

**mea culpa** ( _noun_ )  
my fault

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

Hermione heard the sound of someone reading before she noticed anything else. The steady cadence of a voice so familiar read a passage she knew all too well from a book she had loved so much.

"Eventually, a serious argument arose between Slytherin and Gryffindor regarding the subject and such was the acrimony of the disagreement, Slytherin left the school for good. The legend of the Chamber of Secrets arises from Slytherin's departure…"

She opened her eyes and saw the moonlight streaming through a large window on the wall beside her. She could see the stars twinkling brightly in the night sky and knew she wasn't in Athens anymore. The walls of her surroundings extended to such a staggering height and held up a vaulted ceiling proudly hanging a chandelier.

She had been in this same position before; laying on a bed here in this room. The same view greeted her after she woke so many years ago after being petrified. The tears sprung to her eyes when she realized she was at Hogwarts.

She was _back._

The voice coming from the side of her bed continued its reading. With a stiff neck, Hermione turned her head to the right. The reader's head was bowed as they poured over _Hogwarts, A History_ , but Hermione would recognize that messy mop of hair from anywhere as well as the voice.

"James," she called. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the boy heard and the retelling of the Chamber of Secrets immediately stopped.

His head jerked upwards and Hermione was greeted with the stunned look of her son. The tears spilled when James shot up from his seat and engulfed her in a tight embrace with a loud cry.

"Mum!"

It wasn't just her crying now. She could feel James shake as he burrowed himself into her side. She hugged him as tightly as her wound would allow not caring about the sharp pain emitting from her side.

 _God_ , she had missed him.

"Oh, love," Hermione whispered, closing her eyes. "It's okay, baby. _I'm_ okay. I'm so sorry for making you worry."

James held on. The hand stroking his back up and down was calming but the relief at seeing her awake was still so overwhelming. The past few days were taxing on the little boy. He went from celebrating the magical holiday of Hallowe'en to having his mum abducted. For two days he lived in fear and thought that he wouldn't see her again. He was calmed when she was brought to Hogwarts only to learn that she had been _shot_ and was gravely injured. Then he thought that she would never wake up again.

So many scenarios flashed through his mind throughout all of this. Images of him without his mum. Images of him being all alone. She was his world and he wouldn't know what to do without her.

He couldn't bear to lose another parent.

"I was so scared I wouldn't see you again," James whimpered. He brushed a hand over his face and looked at Hermione with reddened eyes. "I thought I'll be all alone."

That broke her. Hermione drew him tightly against her and the mother and son held on to each other for comfort. No words were necessary at that moment as they reassured each other that everything was okay. Hermione whispered sweet nothings into James' ears as he cried in her embrace. Her own tears spilled as she held onto him, her hand absentmindedly stroking his hair.

How could she _ever_ make it up to him?

What she did was _foolish_ and… it was all for _what_?

Hermione knew she should have gone to the proper authorities the moment she learned that the staff she found was enchanted. She should have alerted the Ministry of Magic of her discovery and that a man was hell-bent on finding it and _using_ it.

But she didn't.

She could say it was because of her thirst for knowledge. She could say it was because she was _curious_ at what the staff could do.

But that would be a lie because the _real_ reason was that she was _scared_. She was scared of being found out. She was scared of the wizarding world knowing that Hermione Jane Granger was still alive.

And she was scared of Harry learning what she had done.

But look at where that had taken her now?

She was a coward and an idiot to the point of endangering herself and shaking her son's whole world.

Hermione cried with James. Her sobs mixed with his own and she decided then and there that she would do _anything_ to make it up to him. He was the most important being in her world and she had been a truly lousy mother.

"I'm so sorry, James," she whispered. "I wasn't thinking properly. I shouldn't have put myself in danger like that. I'm sorry, love." She squeezed him tighter.

James' sobs quieted down and he leaned back from the hug to look at his mum. She looked so _small_ and so worried and so weak. She looked so very unlike the woman who took him to his football games back in London; the one who cheered him on from the sidelines and insisted on lugging his whole kit for him after his games. She looked so different from the woman who bestowed upon him his passion for reading, who would walk out of any bookstore with at least ten books in her arms.

The only other time he had seen his mum so broken down was...

It was _that_ summer. It was the summer he learned about magic and the summer she first spoke of his dad.

"Mum," James whispered. "We have to talk."

Hermione gazed at the boy in front of her. James had grown since she last saw him two at King's Cross. He was still her little boy, but he looked older now. His inquisitive eyes were looking at her with so many questions and his determination to find answers were palpable.

She tenderly caressed his cheek and nodded her head. "Yes, we do."

Gently and without care at getting caught by the resident healer, James climbed up on the bed and laid beside his mum. Hermione slowly turned on her side and the mother and son gazed at one another. Their brown eyes held the other pair as Hermione's hand came to rest on his waist.

"Will you tell me what happened?" James asked softly.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes briefly. James watched as she took a couple of deep breaths before she reopened them again. Hermione parted her lips and the truth spilled from within her.

She told him about the commission she received from the man named Demetre Demos. James wasn't unfamiliar with his mum's line of work. He knew that she was some sort of historian and research specialist and many people and organizations sought her employ. Often she worked with affluent families who came to her with antiques seeking to know more about their treasures. Once he remembered his mum bringing home a red clay pot and gently placing it on a secure shelf in her office. He studied the pot from behind the glass and wondered how important the nondescript item could be. To him, it looked like a simple and worn and very dusty old pot rendered useless because of a hole in its side. A week later, his mum told him she believed it to be a pot from the Qin Dynasty of China.

James knew how brilliant his mum was, so it was no surprise to him when she told him of the museum director's tall order. Hermione said that Mr. Demos wanted her to determine and _find_ the historical items Greek mythological items were based on. When James looked at her in question, Hermione explained further.

"Myths came from oral tradition," she said, as her hand continued to stroke up and down his side. "That means they came from information passed down by word of mouth through the generations. They were used to describe all things, both tangible like a warrior's weapon, and intangible like lightning. Zeus' thunderbolts stemmed from the ancient Greeks trying to understand lightning. That's what Mr. Demos wanted to know. What _thing_ became Poseidon's trident? Athena's aegis? And… and Hermes' caduceus?"

Her voice hardened when she said the last two words and the stroking of her hand stopped. "I started on the caduceus. It was more unique than the others in shape and size. There were so many historical references to the caduceus as well from familial coat of arms to even modern medicine. All I had to do was find the _oldest_ reference… and I happened upon it by luck. There was a break-in at a museum in Toronto though nothing was taken, but I became curious about its current exhibits. I looked at the catalogue and came across a description of a staff found during an excavation two decades ago from the ancient city of Lagash. It was a single column with intertwined serpents and topped with wings. It was described exactly as the caduceus," she explained. "This was after you left for Hogwarts, so I wanted to go to Toronto to see it in person. It was the oldest reference to the caduceus that I could find. I planned the trip to be immediately after I came back from my meeting with Mr. Demos in Athens. I thought it was perfect timing since I needed to update him on my progress anyway. But..."

"But what?" James whispered. His eyes were wide as he listened to his mum retell her story.

"But I overheard him say something which changed my mind. All this time I was under the impression that he was a Muggle. I knew for certain he thought of me as one. He _never_ showed any indication that he was magical. But as I was waiting to be let into his office, I saw that he was talking to another man inside. The man who was visiting him raised a _wand_ against him, and Demos pulled a wand from his own pocket. Then, he told the man to be _patient..._ because _I_ had been working on the project for months and _I_ was bound to find _it_ soon."

James gasped and Hermione nodded. "He sounded menacing and… and so _desperate_. I knew then and there he could not be trusted. So during our meeting, I didn't tell him anything about the staff. He kept prying and asking me about my progress on the caduceus but I only said that I was still in the thick of sifting through all of the information. I got back to London and immediately flew to Toronto.

"The staff was displayed in the gallery like an afterthought. It was at the darkest corner of the hall placed with the other miscellaneous artefacts with nowhere to belong. I could see why, though. Half of the wings were broken, and the wood had eroded so much you could barely see the serpents' bodies. But as I looked at it from behind the glass, it... began to _glow_." Hermione said, her eyes casting a faraway look as she recalled her trip to the museum. She remembered the rod behind the glass that every other museum patron ignored. "And I _felt_ its magic, baby. It was enchanted. That staff was magical and it was _powerful_. I panicked. I didn't want to just leave it there. So I took it and I transfigured another object to take its place."

James' jaw dropped at his mum's admittance of a crime but she continued on. "I took it back home and I debated what to do. All I knew was that Demos was a _wizard_ , he wanted to find the staff, and the staff was magical and powerful. I knew that I didn't trust him. I wanted to study it further but I knew that things had suddenly gotten so much more dangerous than before. I… I transfigured the staff, in case something happened."

"And something _did_ happen," James supplied quietly.

Hermione nodded regretfully. "Yes, they did. Demos found out. He came for me. And… you know the rest, love."

James looked at her in awe and she could see the questions swimming in his eyes. "Did you figure out what the staff did? Did you really transfigure it? Where is it now?"

Hermione simply nodded her head. "I _think_ I know what it does, but I need more time," she began, and since there was no reason to stop, she continued, "The staff was always with me."

He jerked and looked at her in shock. "What? It is? Where is it now?!"

With care, Hermione lifted her right hand. James watched as the bracelet shone on the light. The little H and J silver charms twinkled as she lightly shook her wrist.

"The bracelet?" He whispered in disbelief.

Hermione nodded her head. "I didn't want to let it out of my sight."

James touched one of the charms with the tip of his finger, seemingly in awe. It looked exactly like the gift he had given her. "Can I… can I see it?" He asked.

Hermione gave a wry smile. "I don't know where my wand is right now, baby, and I don't think I'm strong enough yet to do the spell without it."

He nodded in understanding, eyes still fixated on the silver chain. He snuggled to her side and played with the bracelet with his fingers. It sure _felt_ and _looked_ normal. He wouldn't have guessed otherwise for he could see nothing different with the silver. James felt himself get a little excited at the idea of seeing his mum transfigure it back to what it truly was. He hadn't seen a lot of very complex transfiguration spells in school yet with the exception of Professor McGonagall transforming herself into a cat and back. "We can ask Professor Potter where your wand is, mum. He would know. Are you… going to tell him about this? He's a _really_ good Auror, you know."

There it was. That feeling of dread instantly followed by the feeling of freedom settled in Hermione.

It was no longer time to hide. It was time for the truth.

She squeezed him closer and shut her eyes. She breathed in. And out. In. And out. She found the courage inside of her and opened her eyes. In a whisper, she asked, "What do you think of Professor Potter?"

Hermione watched a small grin grace her son's lips. James' eyes brightened and immediately the boy stopped fidgeting with the transfigured bracelet and looked at her. "He's _really_ cool. Defence is the best class ever and he also likes Quidditch! He helped me practice for the tryouts," James said excitedly. "And he's fun to talk to and doesn't look down on me," he continued more softly. "He's also Nate's and Teddy's godfather and they say he's really, really nice and kind to them. He's really nice and kind to me too." He gave her an earnest look and his grin widened. "You can _trust_ him, mum. He… promised me he would find you and he did."

He said it so easily like it was _fact_. There was reverence and awe in how James spoke about the man he knew as Professor Potter. It wasn't the same hero-worship she became all too familiar with during school either. James wasn't simply retelling Professor Potter's triumphs and commendations from other people's lips or from what he'd read in the newspaper. It was deeper than that. It was more personal.

Her son had already fallen in love.

And his words held meaning to Hermione that he himself didn't know about. Those four words spoken so simply were another reminder of the greatest mistake she had ever committed.

James was right.

She _could_ trust him. She _should_ have trusted him.

But she didn't.

"Do you remember what I told you about your father?" She asked in a whisper.

James, who had started to fidget with the transfigured chain again, stopped what he was doing and turned his full attention to her. His face was scrunched in confusion at the change in topic while he thoughtfully nodded his head.

"I do, but... what does my dad have to do with anything?" He asked.

Hermione tucked him into her side and held him close. She had no idea how to proceed but there was absolutely no going back now. "What do you remember?"

James pondered in silence. What _doesn't_ he remember? He held onto everything that was said about his father so closely. He kept all the little grains of information he collected over the years near to his heart. He told himself never to forget. After all, how could he forget when he already knew so little?

His mum told him his father was the best man she ever knew. He was described as helpful, powerful, amazing, and brave. Even Mr. Ollivander said that he was _lucky_ to have known James' dad.

James frowned. But how could _he_ be all that when _he_ wasn't even there? How could he be so amazing when he didn't see what was right in front of him? How could he be so brave when he wasn't there for his mum when she needed him the most?

How could his mum still love him so much even when _he didn't love her_?

James honestly tried not to cast judgement towards this unknown figure. He was aware that he _didn't_ know the whole story. He had a feeling his dad never even _knew_ his mum was pregnant. And his mum never spoke ill of his father as well. Granted, she didn't speak a lot about him but when she did, it was to reminisce about the good times and to give him accolades.

But she still felt the need to leave. Not just _him_ behind, but her friends, her life, and her _magic_ as well. She created a whole new identity for herself to _protect_ him and his father.

What did that even mean?

"I remember everything you've ever told me about him," James replied honestly.

He felt her take a shaky breath in and he watched her face. It was solemn and pensive. Her eyes were turning glassy as the tears rose to the surface. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but she asked him a question instead.

"Do you remember his name?" She inquired quietly.

James looked at her for a moment, his heart starting to beat a little faster with anticipation. He felt the tension in the air and his hands fisted at the front of her shirt.

"I do," he replied softly with a nod. "His name's Harry."

Hermione held his gaze as the tears spilled from her eyes. A choked sob left her and she had to breathe deeply to voice the name she held in her heart for years.

"That's right," she whispered. "His name's _Harry_ _Potter_."

James felt as if the wind had been knocked from his chest. He was stunned, his eyes were wide and his mouth parted in a silent gasp. He felt breathless, weightless. He felt everything and nothing at once after hearing that name. He was numb. Hot. Cold. He looked at his mother in shock trying to process what she had just said, not quite believing her at the same time this little bubble of hope was rising inside his chest.

Harry Potter.

His father's _Harry Potter_.

" _How_?" He asked in a choked whisper. He felt his mum's fingers on his cheeks and that was when he realized that he was crying again.

She explained through her own tears. How they met in her first year. How they became friends because of the troll. How they and their other friend, Ron Weasley, faced dangers every single year because of Voldemort. As she spoke, James realized that he already knew all of this. He had read all about the Golden Tro's adventures in _Hogwarts, A History,_ but now they were being told from the point of view of the missing piece; from the point of view of whom the books could only refer to as The Brightest Witch; from the point of view of his own _mother_.

She told him about what he knew and more. She told him about the Horcrux hunt, how when Mr. Weasley left it was when _he_ was conceived. "I didn't know I was pregnant with you, baby," she admitted. "I found out in May right before Voldemort attacked the castle. I wanted to tell him… but I _couldn't_. It wasn't the right time. I didn't need him worrying about _me_ , about _us_ , during the battle," her voice broke as more tears spilled from her eyes. James put his hand on her cheek and tried to brush them away. His mind was whirling with all of this new knowledge but he understood. Finding out about a child would be a shock to anybody, especially to someone who was supposed to end the Dark Lord's reign.

Hermione held onto his hand like it was giving her the strength to continue. "We made it through the battle _alive_. All of us. I was so thankful. I told myself I was going to tell him the day after," she whispered. "I looked for him and… and I found him," she said, closing her eyes. She remembered that morning with the summer sun shining brightly down on the ruined castle. It seemed like the perfect time to tell Harry the truth. "He was with somebody else; his old girlfriend whom he broke up with before we left to find the Horcruxes. They were kissing."

James recoiled at her words. He looked at her with questions and anger rising to his reddened eyes. So _that's_ what she meant when she said that his father didn't love her. Hermione tenderly stroked his cheek while shaking her head. "No, _no_ , baby, don't be mad at him," she pleaded desperately through her tears. " _He didn't know_ ," his mum said, fully sobbing now. "And I… I didn't tell him. I left. I thought it would be better for _him_ if he didn't have to deal with any more obligations. I thought leaving it all behind would be best for _you_."

She was shaking and James held onto her with fisted hands as she continued her story. His eyes were red and he was breathing heavily. He had no idea what to say or what to _think_ or what to do. He was a mess of emotions and he struggled to reign them all in. "I _never_ gave him the chance," Hermione said as she wept. "I took away his choice. I took your _father_ away from you. I shouldn't have left. I should have told him. I am so, _so_ sorry, love. Please forgive me."

It was finally out. Her guilt and her faults spilled from her alongside a river of tears. It was hard telling it all to James. It wasn't easy admitting that she had failed him as a mother. It also wasn't easy admitting that she had been a truly terrible friend to the best friend she had ever known.

She was Harry Potter's best friend. She loved him so much, for Merlin's sake, yet she still betrayed him. There was no other way to describe the actions she took eleven years ago. She deprived him of a chance for a _family_ , the one thing she knew he wanted most in the world. Moreso, she didn't own up to it until she was forced to. She had eleven years to find him again. She had eleven years to seek forgiveness and make everything right.

But she didn't. She hid herself in the Muggle world under the guise of Jane Watson because she was _scared_...

She held onto James and drew him closer to her chest.

...and in doing so, she deprived her son the chance to know his father. And she deprived the only person she had ever loved the chance to know his son.

James quietly digested her words. The more he thought about it the more the pieces fell into place. His _name_ , for goodness sake. He was named after his grandfather. Then there was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who said they were friends of his mum's…

And the way Professor Potter looked at him after that Hallowe'en night. There was something different in his gaze. James closed his eyes and tried to recall the conversation he and the Auror had in the Quidditch field after his mum was taken.

The Auror asked about his mum. And then, he asked James about his dad. He seemed so lost when he questioned James about the father he never knew. James narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember the professor's reaction to his words.

" _He didn't love her_. _My father didn't love my mum_."

He remembered the pained expression on the older man's face.

" _She didn't want to get in the way of his happiness."_

He remembered the Auror's burning eyes.

" _She left to protect him and to protect me. She loved him so much, and she still does."_

He remembered how the Auror left him in the Quidditch field with another promise to bring her back home. James watched as the man walked on top of the grass with his shoulders slumped and his head bent. He looked broken.

Now James knew why. This whole mess was starting to make sense in his mind.

He embraced his mother. He didn't think he was angry with her. He didn't think he _could_ be angry with her, at least not with what she did before he was born. She would have only been eighteen years old, still so young to have faced all that she went through alone. James couldn't even fathom having to make the decision she had to make. He also knew that it was probably the _wrong_ decision, but he didn't begrudge her for that. She had just come out of a war, heartbroken and lost. He even heard from his friends how utterly terrible wizarding media was towards their parents, so James could imagine his mum wanting to get herself and him away from all of that. She had her reasons for leaving but James was certain they came from a place of love.

But the brightest spot in this whole dark mess was that he now knew his father! James smiled softly even as the tears continued to flow down his cheeks. He never would have thought that the man he grew to respect and care for so much during the past couple of months was his _dad_. His and Professor Potter's relationship evolved from a place of strangers to something so much more. Harry Potter was kind, funny, smart, and admirable. He delivered on his promises and made James feel safe and protected. He was this person whom people depended on and with good reason. He was… he was his _dad_ and James' heart nearly burst with so much happiness at the thought.

The only thing amiss was the big white elephant in the room. James' smile vanished. His parents haven't seen each other for years… and James had a feeling that they wouldn't be reconciled quite as easily as he'd hoped. His dad probably had years of hurt to overcome and James could imagine how angry he must have felt after finding out what his mum had done. And he would be in the right to feel so hurt and angry about all of this, though James wished with all of his might that that wouldn't affect their new relationship. On the other hand, his mum had thought all of this time that his dad was in love with another person.

James was confused and frustrated as he tried to get all of his thoughts in order.

The mother and son cried with each other until there were no more tears left to cry. Their breathing slowed and the tears dried as they laid on the bed facing each other.

Hermione's hand played with his hair and James gave a gentle smile before taking hold of it. He squeezed her hand and brought it over his heart. It was getting late and the whole infirmary was dark save for a few flickering candles and the light of their eyes.

As long awaited slumber took hold of the two and pulled them into darkness, a whisper left James' lips. It was a promise filled with so much hope and determination and was the last thing Hermione heard before the shadows consumed her.

"Everything's going to be okay, mum. I love you."

* * *

"Mr. Watson!" A fierce whisper called into his ear. "Mr. Watson, this is completely unacceptable! You should not be here, boy. You'll disturb your mother!"

James' groggy eyes blinked open. He was laying on his back now and was staring up at the ceiling. There was a dancing light at the corner of his eyes and he turned his head to see Madam Pomfrey towering over him with a reproaching look on her face.

"Mr. Watson," she said again, softer this time. "You need to head back to the common room. It's well past curfew! I need to redress Ms. Granger's wound and you can't stay here in bed with her. She shouldn't be cramped like this."

James looked to his side to see his mum still sleeping. He gently sat up from the bed and turned pleading eyes to the healer. "I'll get off the bed but can't I just stay here, Madam Pomfrey? I don't want to leave her."

The witch's eyes softened but she was firm on her rules. "You have to go back to the Gryffindor common room, Mr. Watson. Worry not about your mother, you can visit her again in the morning. She's in good hands and I bet that she'd much rather have you sleeping comfortably in your own bed than in here. I'll write you a note so you won't get in trouble if you run into Mr. Filch or any one else in the hallways."

Hesitantly, James hopped off the bed. He gave his mum a sweet kiss on the cheek and gingerly took the note from Madam Pomfrey's hand. He grabbed his book bag from the ground and, with one last look at his sleeping mother, turned and walked out of the hospital wing.

The hallways were dark but James had already learned the wand lighting spell. He cast _Lumos_ but kept his wand inside his pocket so only a faint glow was visible through the fabric. He didn't want to disturb the sleeping portraits as he walked through the silent halls. His watch told him it was nearly eleven. He had rushed to the hospital wing soon after dinner ended and spent the rest of the night talking with his mum until they fell asleep. The whole castle was cast in shadows and there was no sign of Mr. Filch, Mrs. Norris, or any of the prefects or heads on patrol.

He relished the darkness and the quiet. The hallways were absolutely silent save for his own footsteps. The treck from the hospital wing to the Gryffindor tower was a pretty long one too so he had plenty of time to think.

As he passed by the closed doors of the Great Hall, James marvelled at how in such a short amount of time (it had only been two months!), so many things happened. In such a short amount of time, his whole life changed. It was such a surreal experience. He met his best friends. He started school at a magical school. His mum got into trouble and then…

And then he learned about his _dad_.

What an incredible thing that was, since James spent so many years silently wondering who made up the other half of the equation that was his life.

And he never would have guessed that _Professor Potter_ was his father.

James' feelings were all over the place. He was happy, sad, worried, excited, anxious, scared. He didn't know how the dynamic between him and Professor Potter would change. Could he call the man "dad"? Would Professor Potter even allow it? What if… what if Professor Potter _didn't_ want James as his son?

It _really_ hurt to think about and James' pace slowed down. That fear of rejection gripped his heart and filled him with worry to the point where he felt suffocated.

Professor Potter wouldn't do that to him, right? He was always so nice, and so kind…

James had a feeling that Professor Potter _knew_ about their relationship when he came to talk to him after Halowe'en.

But then, why didn't he say anything? Did he keep quiet because it wasn't the right time? Or… did he keep quiet because he didn't want to acknowledge it?

James stopped walking and leaned against the stone wall of the hallway. Fear was clouding his mind and his face scrunched up as he willed the tears not to fall. But he couldn't help himself. The salty drops fell as his heart was seized with the fear and the worry that his father wouldn't want him as his son.

Footsteps echoed down a side passageway and James stood up tall. He wiped his face clear of tears as best as he could and retrieved the note from Madam Pomfrey that was in his pocket. He took a deep breath and readied himself to confront Mr. Filch.

But it wasn't Mr. Filch who rounded the corner. It wasn't a prefect either nor was it the head girl or boy. Through the darkness, James saw the tall figure emerge. His long, sweeping cloak flowed behind him. His dark, black hair was as black as the night which engulfed the castle. In his hand was a broomstick.

Harry Potter stopped his gait and looked at the boy in the hallway. Through the light of the _Lumos_ he saw James standing by the wall with reddened eyes and damp cheeks. His brows furrowed as he noted that James had been crying.

"James," Harry called softly as he started to approach. It was almost as soft as a whisper but James heard it. The hallway was completely silent but his heartbeat thundered loudly in his ears. "Are you okay? Is something the matter? What are you doing here? Why are you crying?"

James' lips quivered at the sight of him. The tears sprung to his eyes once again. All of his emotions - all the fear and worry and happiness and elation - leapt to the surface. He couldn't stand still. He _couldn't_ keep it in. With a strangled cry, Madam Pomfrey's note fell from his hand as he ran towards his _father_.

" _Dad_!"

Harry gasped and the broomstick clattered to the ground. His eyes were wide behind his glasses. He took a staggering step forward before dropping to his knees just as the boy - his _son_ \- ran into his arms.

"James," Harry breathed. "Oh, James," he whispered. His arms closed around the crying boy and held him tight. James' arms looped around his neck as he buried his face into his father's chest. Harry felt the tears rise to the surface and he didn't bother holding them in. "You know. Merlin, _you know_. How?" He asked in a strangled whisper.

James' head lifted from his chest. "Mum told me," he said softly.

At the mention of Hermione, Harry jerked and looked at James. "She's awake?" He asked, hopeful. He was gripped with worry that she had taken so much damage from the bullet wound and magical exhaustion.

James nodded slowly. "She woke up earlier this evening. And we… talked," he answered quietly.

Harry's heart pounded loudly in his chest. "She told you about… us? About… _me_?" He asked in a whisper.

James simply nodded.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked softly. He stopped breathing as he waited for James' reply.

"I've always wanted a dad," James said in a murmur as the tears silently streaked down his cheeks. "And I'm so glad it's _you_."

A choked sob left Harry and he and James embraced once again. His hand was stroking soothing circles on James' back as all of their emotions rose to the surface and spilled over the edge.

" _I didn't know_ ," Harry said in a strangled voice to the darkness. He felt James' sobs quiet down as the boy listened. "If I had, I would have… I _wouldn't_ have... I… I am _so sorry_."

He couldn't find the right words to say.

What _could_ he say? Harry was at a loss for his mind and heart were in a jumble. Ever since Hallowe'en night when James told him that Hermione left because _he_ loved another person, he hadn't been able to think straight. How did she come to that conclusion? How could she have possibly thought that? Even though at the time he hadn't realized he loved her, he certainly wasn't in love with another.

 _She_ was the most important person in his whole world.

If he _was_ to be in love when he was seventeen, it would be with _her_ and no one else.

James withdrew from his embrace and the father and son looked at each other. Harry felt like he had so much to apologize for as he watched the tears leak from those brown eyes. They were _her_ eyes and they were another reminder of what he had lost eleven years ago.

"I know, dad," James whispered, smiling slightly at Harry's stunned look at being called "dad" once again. The boy's hand rested on Harry's damp cheek and lightly brushed the tears away. As he drew his arms around his dad for another embrace, James whispered a promise which he had already given his mum. "Everything's going to be okay."

His dad walked him back to the Gryffindor common room. They didn't really talk since the surprise and shock of the discovery was still too fresh. And it wasn't like any words were needed either, since their tears and tender embrace just moments ago were enough of a statement that they _both_ wanted _this_.

They parted ways in front of the Fat Lady after another embrace and a promise to have a longer talk in the morning. James went to bed with a smile on his face and his heart full. His mum was okay and she was on the road to recovery. He finally found out the identity of his father and he turned out to be the man James already deeply respected and cared for. And, it seemed like his dad actually wanted to foster this new relationship as well.

On the other side of the castle, Harry laid wide awake on his own bed. He felt everything at once that he was starting to feel numb. The happiness that he had a _son_ who wanted this new paternal relationship with him was at the forefront. He may have missed out on eleven years of James' life, but Harry vowed that he would be present for the rest if James wished him to be. He knew he already _loved_ the boy and couldn't imagine parting ways with him.

And then, there was that grain of anger in his heart. Anger towards Hermione for keeping this all from him. Anger towards Hermione for breaking his trust. Anger towards _himself_ for…

For still loving her.

Because he still loved her, despite all of what she had done.

He realized that as he watched her fall after the gunshot. He came to Athens thinking he could never forgive her for the betrayal she had committed. He went in thinking that once she had answered all of his questions, he would finally _stop_.

Stop thinking about her.

Stop dreaming about her.

Stop loving her.

But then she just had to go and put herself in harm's way. She just had to go and _save_ _him._

And as he watched her fall and saw the blood pouring from her side, Harry realized that he _couldn't_ stop. When he saw her fall, his heart dropped. His whole world fell into disarray. His universe shattered after seeing her so broken and that was when he realized he still cared _so much_. He still and would always _love_ her.

And that really angered him, because loving her _hurt_.

* * *

The following morning, Hermione woke up to Madam Pomfrey tending to her wound. The mediwitch was redressing her bandaged side and immediately offered her a potion when she saw Hermione blink awake.

As Hermione drank the bitter liquid, Madam Pomfrey answered her silent question. "Your son dropped by this morning, Ms. Granger," the mediwitch said with a raised eyebrow. "He's in class now but he told me he will be visiting you over lunch."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said softly.

The witch eyed her critically and Hermione felt herself shrink under the healer's gaze. Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth only to close it again. Finally, she smiled gently and said, "And welcome back, Ms. Granger. It's good to see you again." Without waiting for Hermione's reply, she turned around and left the bedside leaving the younger witch in deep thought.

Not soon after Madam Pomfrey left her did a knock sound at the door. Hermione told her visitor to come in expecting to see Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore. Instead, one of the men who helped rescue her came into the room.

"Remus," Hermione said in greeting with a shocked but pleased smile. Her previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professor returned her smile and closed the door behind him. He was carrying a stack of books in his hands which he carefully laid on Hermione's bedside table.

"Hermione," Remus said warmly. "How are you doing? Are you feeling better?" He asked, as he sat on the chair next to her bed.

She nodded her head. "The wound still hurts but not as much as before. Madame Pomfrey has been taking great care of me."

"I see that she is," Remus commented, nodding towards Hermione's comfortable perch on the bed as she sat surrounded by pillows. "I'm truly glad that you're recovering well but why I came this morning is to ask you about what happened."

"Of course," Hermione replied with a nod. She wasn't daft; she knew what he came to see her for. He was an Auror after all and she had valuable information that he needed to hear.

"Before we begin, I have something which belongs to you," Remus said. He reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out a slender piece of wood. He held the wand delicately in between his fingers before handing it to her.

"Thank you," Hermione said, wide-eyed. She grasped her wand and clutched it in her palm. It's funny how she felt so much stronger and more secure with it in her hand when she had spent years without even looking at it.

Remus sat back on his chair and looked at the witch on the bed. Momentarily, Remus remembered the last time he had seen Ms. Granger. It was in this very castle, during the feast held at the Great Hall after Voldemort's defeat. He remembered telling Tonks, who was holding onto a squirming Teddy, that it made such a great sight seeing the three friends - Harry, Ron, and Hermione - together and laughing again. Remus had no idea that the very next day he would be searching the whole castle since Hermione Jane Granger had disappeared.

"Hermione," he began softly. "Can you please tell me what happened after you… left eleven years ago?"

Her eyes held his own as she answered. "This may surprise you but… I went to London. I had money with me - I had always been good at saving money - but I had nobody else. I was able to rent a flat and pretended that I was still a student going to a nearby university. The Muggles ignored me for the most part, and I was able to live on my own," she began. "I took the next few months to just clear my head. And after I… I gave birth… I started working at a bookstore. The owner was an old woman named Tessa," here, Hermione smiled, "and she loved taking care of James. She was smart as a whip too. Her bookstore was her retirement dream," Hermione explained, seeing Remus nodding along. "Tessa was a historian and a researcher. I saw so many people go into her bookstore to commission her for work. She noticed I was interested, so she asked me to help out. It started off as just small research projects, but soon I was doing more research work for her than working at the bookstore." Hermione's eyes started to tear up. "She passed away four years later. Heart attack."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Remus said softly.

Hermione gave him a teary smile. "She lived a good life. And she helped me so much with mine. We were like family."

"So you worked as a researcher, then?" The Auror asked, continuing his questions.

Hermione nodded. "She gave my information to her clients and when she passed… they came to me, instead," she answered.

"And what about James?" Remus asked, quietly. He watched as Hermione's eyes brightened and she turned wistful.

"He was a happy child. He made friends so easily. He loved to play football and his computer games, but he loved going to school too. He is the kindest and best person I know," Hermione said about her son. Her voice quivered a little bit when she said, "He… he didn't show any signs of magic until he was 10."

Remus nodded his head understanding. "How did you get into contact with Demetre Demos?" He asked next.

Hermione told the Auror that Demos contacted her for a project his museum was undertaking. She explained that it wasn't unusual for her to work with museums and libraries, so she had no problem believing the museum director. Besides, he had piqued her interest by telling her what the project was about.

"The origins of mythical objects? That seems like a very difficult task, Ms. Granger," Remus commented, after Hermione told him what Demos asked of her.

"It was, but I thought it interesting and challenging. There's always a beginning somewhere, one just has to look for it," she said.

"Fair enough," Remus replied. "So what happened when you started working for him?"

Hermione described the lucky discovery she made about the exhibit in Toronto. She said that she was going to meet Mr. Demos in person for an update, so she thought it best that she tell him about Toronto during that meeting. Hermione told the Auror what she saw and what she heard during her visit to the museum.

"He _never_ gave any indication that he knew I was a witch, and I never questioned him to be a wizard. But when I saw and heard that conversation inside his office, I knew he was hiding something and he could not be trusted. The wizard who came to see Demos was called Christanti," Hermione told Remus, and watched the man write down the name. "I had to pretend I saw nothing when I met with him. And it was different this time. He was so impatient and so insistent. It seemed that Christanti really shook him up. He kept asking about the caduceus and I… kept quiet about my discovery," Hermione said.

"I flew to Toronto soon after I landed back home in London. I saw the staff that was described in the catalogue and it was… enchanted. I felt its magic the moment I spotted it. I wanted to study it further so I took the staff and transfigured something else to keep its place," she admitted.

Remus' eyebrows rose at her words. "What happened after that? Did you find out what it does? Where is the staff now?"

"I took it back to London, and I studied it. I kept the staff with me all the time… I transfigured it, you see," Hermione explained.

"You've transfigured it?" He repeated the question. "Where is it? Can I see it?"

Hermione held out her wrist and showed Remus the silver chain bracelet she wore. She unclasped the jewelry with her other hand and placed the bracelet on top of her lap. After grabbing her wand, Hermione waved the wood in complicated movements and mumbled a modified _Finite_ charm under her breath.

Remus watched, wide-eyed, as the delicate chain was transformed back into its original form because of the spell. The chain glowed and then it expanded to be a little longer than the wand Hermione was currently holding. The silver chain turned to wood and it thickened to a wider girth. Indentations formed on the surface and Remus noted it looked like two vines were winding themselves up the column. A single wing the size of Hermione's hand sprouted from the end.

"This is the staff?" Remus asked, as Hermione carefully handed him the wooden object. He held it carefully in his hands for it felt so delicate in his touch. He looked at it in awe, turning the staff over and over in his palms as if expecting it to _do_ something. He handed it back to Hermione when it didn't perform in his hands. "What does it do?"

Hermione gently placed the object on her lap. "I think it has healing properties," Hermione responded. Remus looked at her inquisitively and she explained further. "Well, it's only a guess, but the mythical object of Hermes' caduceus which was fashioned after _this_ one had healing properties. I'll… I'll need to do more research."

Remus nodded, noting that Hermione was taking on the task. Deciding to shelf _that_ for later, Remus asked, "What do you know about Demetre Demos? Why does he want the staff?"

At this, Hermione frowned. Still she felt like such a fool for not realizing Demos was a wizard. She was utterly blindsighted by his deception and felt like an idiot for letting herself get caught in his web. "I… I don't know," Hermione said, though she hated saying it. "I did my research of him before taking on the job, but that only told me that he was a museum director. His post in the museum was legitimate and I never questioned his personal life. The man in his office whom I saw said that _they_ were looking for it. And it seemed like he had a lot of men working for him too. They were able to figure out that I went to Toronto shortly before the exhibit moved to New York where _they_ tried to get the staff. He was meant to retrieve the staff for _someone_ else. But _who_?"

Remus grimaced. "That's what we're trying to suss out," he said. "How do you think he found out about the staff when you didn't tell him anything?"

She bit her lip in thought and shrugged again. "It's not unusual to have more than one researcher on a project. I reckon he might have gotten help when I… when I wouldn't tell him anything. I gave him updates on my progress until the very end, unfortunately - it was just part of the process with my clients. He could have used that and handed it off to another researcher."

The Auror nodded in understanding and looked at the staff on her lap. "I'll need to take the caduceus with me, Ms. Granger," he said softly "It needs to be protected. _You_ need to be protected."

Hermione frowned. "It's safest _here_ , at Hogwarts," she said. "Where it will remain transfigured into a simple bracelet that no one will care about." She grabbed her wand and muttered the spell with such precision and ease. Remus watched as the wooden rod shrunk in size and transformed into a silver chain. He was almost surprised at how easily she did the incantation but caught himself. This was Hermione Granger, after all. She was still her same brilliant self even after years of not using magic.

A knock sounded on the door making Hermione and Remus look towards the entrance. The wooden door to her private room in the hospital wing swung open and James' head peeked inside.

"Good afternoon, mum, Mr. Lupin! I hope I'm not interrupting?" James asked with a smile.

Remus smiled softly and stood from his seat. "Not at all, Mr. Watson. We're just finishing up here," he said.

James nodded his head. "I'll wait outside then!" The boy pulled the door close and disappeared from sight.

Remus turned back to Hermione and looked at his old student. Her eyes had brightened significantly at the sight of James and Remus felt himself empathizing with the younger witch. He had come to know bits and pieces of the story after these past few days. He didn't know the _whole_ story, he was certain about that, but he knew _enough_ to feel the pain in his chest when he looked at the members of this small, broken family.

"He's a great boy, Ms. Granger," Remus commented. Hermione looked at him inquisitively and Remus smiled. "I've gotten many letters from Teddy about his new best friend."

Hermion's lips curved. "I'm glad he's made friends so quickly. I was worried about that, you know. This is all so new to him," she mused.

"It's obvious that you've raised him well," Remus said. Hermione blushed at his praise. "He's very mature for his age… and understanding."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. She knew her son was all of Remus' praises and more. James was one of a kind and for the longest time, the only light she had in her life.

"You can keep the staff with you _for now_ , Ms. Granger," Remus said. Hermione was surprised at his simple, albeit seemingly temporary, acquiescence. "But please do not leave the castle with or without it. I don't suppose you can, anyway, at least for a while. Madam Pomfrey insists you not be moved from Hogwarts until you are fully healed. I will need to discuss with my commander what we are to do with the staff and of your safety." He faltered a bit at the mention of his commander and Hermione knew who he was talking about. There was another pang in her heart and she looked at the silver chain on her lap to avoid the werewolf's knowing eyes. "We have Demos in custody, but he hasn't said anything so far. Not why he wanted the staff or who he was going to give it to. Which is why you need to stay _here_. Whoever it was he was working for knows about you. We cannot risk your safety and I'm afraid you can't go back to your home until this is all sorted."

She sighed but agreed. She was careless before but she wouldn't be careless now.

"I understand, Remus," she said softly.

Remus gave a resolute nod and walked towards the door. "Please take care of yourself, Ms. Granger. I will see you later once I have an update." And with that, the Auror walked out of the door.

He was momentarily taken aback at the sight which greeted him when he entered the main room of the infirmary. James wasn't alone in his waiting. The boy was sitting on a wooden bench lining one of the stone walls talking to the man Remus had wanted to see immediately. But his countenance was so different from when Remus last saw him. Harry Potter was smiling softly as he listened to his son.

Harry's anguished face when he saw the photo on top of James' bedside table in London would haunt him forever, Remus knew. The werewolf had never seen Harry Potter look so broken and lost before. His commander's countenance during the museum raid was telling as well. He was so _angry_ and went into the fight with his wand blazing not caring about the casualties he left behind. This was so very unlike Harry as an Auror. He _never_ let his emotions rule him during his missions but that was precisely what he did in Athens.

Harry's parting words outside of the hospital wing the morning after Hermione's rescue just two days ago was a command to Remus to get to the bottom of it. His green eyes were so very angry and he admitted that he was of no mind to question the museum director they held in custody for fear of not being able to control himself. His commander then excused himself and said he'll be spending the next day getting his affairs in order.

He assumed Harry was talking to the Head Auror and Dumbledore since his priorities had shifted. If one thing was clear to Remus, it was that Harry Potter wanted to absolutely _destroy_ whoever was the guiding hand controlling the puppet that was Demos. They were responsible for hurting Hermione Granger and for that, they would pay.

"Harry," he voiced in surprise. Harry and James stopped conversing and looked at him. The older wizard was struck at how they looked so much alike.

Father and son, indeed.

"Remus," Harry greeted. He stood from his seat beside James and approached his second-in-command. "I want to hear your updates later," the commander continued. "I've already spoken to Wincheseter and Dumbledore. I'm… I'm going to focus on this case. Dumbledore will find a temporary replacement for the Defence post. I want this resolved as soon as possible, and I _need_ to work on it." There was anguish in his voice.

Remus understood and he nodded. "Of course," he replied. "I'll brief the team. Will you be joining us at HQ later?"

"As soon as Dumbledore finds a substitute professor," Harry confirmed. "Which should be within a couple of days, from what he's said."

"Good," Remus said. "I'm heading back then and will floo you later this evening. I'll send the patronus if there's anything urgent. Take care of yourself, Harry," he said it earnestly while looking into the younger wizard's eyes. Harry gave a sharp nod. Remus turned to James and smiled at the boy. "And see you later, Mr. Watson."

"Good bye, Mr. Lupin," James said with a wave. With another nod, Remus strode out of the infirmary without looking back.

As he walked towards Hogwarts' gates so he could apparate away, Remus sent a silent prayer to all of the gods out there. He couldn't help but feel as though he had narrowly missed a storm brewing inside the hospital wing. He could only hope that it wouldn't be so catastrophic and everyone would survive it with their hearts intact.

* * *

Hermione stared at the door through which her old professor left. There were worry lines on her forehead as she digested what he told her.

She would have to stay at Hogwarts for the time being until it was safe for her to go back home. Which, from the sound of it, wouldn't be until they had closed the case. She itched to help them as much as she could and made a resolution that the next time she saw Remus, she would offer her help. The least she could do was continue what she was doing before which was researching about the staff. Perhaps if she could figure out all of its properties they would be led closer to whomever wanted to use it.

Before she could dwell on it further, another knock sounded on her door. She voiced a soft "Come in" and the door opened to reveal her son. Her troubles melted away when she saw his smile.

"Hi mum," James greeted. He left the door ajar and walked to her bedside. He gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek and sat on the seat Remus occupied. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm better," Hermione answered truthfully. Her wound still stung when she moved too much but she felt better after she woke up today. Her hand reached to stroke his hair. She wasn't surprised when she woke up alone that morning to find the healer fussing over her and James gone. Madam Pomfrey had told her that she sent James back to the common room the previous night but that did leave Hermione wondering how her son was fairing. They had a difficult conversation the previous night, full of tears and truths, and she needed to make sure he was okay. "And you? How are _you_ feeling, baby?"

"I'm alright," James said. He held onto Hermione's hand and saw the bracelet on her lap. He took hold of it carefully and clipped the silver chain around her wrist. He bit her lip and looked at his mum. "I... ran into dad on my way back to the common room last night. We talked."

She didn't expect to hear that and her head jerked to look at James.

"You… you did?" Hermione asked in disbelief, shocked to hear the word "dad" from her son's lips.

James nodded, his mouth curving into a smile. He recalled the conversation they had last night and that morning too. True to his word, Professor Potter - his _dad_ \- was waiting for him outside of Gryffindor common room before breakfast that morning. They walked the Quidditch pitch and just… talked. They stayed far away from the subject of his mum, but James did tell his dad stories about his childhood. He told him about his Muggle school, his friends, the different countries he's had the pleasure of visiting over their holidays, and his football league. His dad asked questions and James answered every one of them eagerly. His favourite food, his hobbies, how he felt about Hogwarts and learning about magic... He knew his dad only wanted to get to know him better and James was willing to help as much as he could.

"Yes, and we talked this morning too before class. In fact, he's right outside-"

But James trailed off when the door creaked open and the subject of their conversation entered the room. Hermione tore her eyes away from her son and looked towards the entrance. The breath left her lungs when she caught sight of him.

He stood tall in the doorway, filling the gap with his wide shoulders and his imposing figure. His stance was tense as if expecting her to leap from her bed and try to run past him. But Hermione knew that there was no more running, no more hiding. One look at him and she knew that the dreaded conversation couldn't be avoided anymore.

He stood there unflinching, his face a mask of indifference. He looked the same yet so different. His hair was still that same, messy mop of black tendrils which fell over his forehead hiding the faded lightning bolt scar. His strong jaw was tensed, his mouth in a straight line. She remembered how years before she had the pleasure of seeing those lips curve into a smile _because of her_. But not now… and perhaps never again. She had lost that privilege.

Because as she held his gaze with her own, she saw everything and felt everything. His pained and angry eyes bore into her soul, locked here in place, and gripped her heart. The magnitude of everything she had done came crashing down on her at that moment.

"Dad!" James said excitedly, unaware of the silent but heavy moment which passed between his parents.

Hermione watched when Harry tore his eyes away from her and looked at _their_ son. Immediately he softened. His lips gave the smallest twitch upwards. He relaxed. He hesitated for a moment before his hand released the handle of the door. He stepped further into the room, closed the wooden door behind him, and walked to where James was sitting down. He stood behind James' chair and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder.

The image was something Hermione knew she would never forget. James was looking up towards his father, his face shining brightly, happily. Harry was looking at James too with the smallest smile on his face. The picture of the father and son clenched her heart in a vice-like grip and she almost couldn't breathe.

How could she be so foolish to keep them apart?

How could she have ever thought it was a good idea to leave?

The pure and unadulterated happiness on James' face was yet another reminder of how she had failed him by keeping his father away. He was so happy - the happiest Hermione had ever seen - as he looked at his father.

How could she have denied him this happiness for so long?

Her gaze shifted from James to look at the man standing behind him. There was wonder in his green eyes as he looked at the boy. There was warmth too, and love. So much love.

"Dad told me all about what he does for work," James said, continuing from where he left off, his gaze looking towards his mother. Hermione focused on him again while consciously aware of the eyes now boring into her skull. "I think I'd like to be an Auror when I grow up… or a Quidditch player. Mum, do you think you can watch my next Quidditch game? Will you still be here in two weeks? Are you going to go back home? Is it _safe_ to go back home?!"

James almost yelled the last question, aghast at the idea that his mum would go back to their home unprotected. His barrage of questions was stopped by the hand squeezing his shoulder.

"Your mum is going to stay in the castle until we get to the bottom of this, James," Harry said soothingly. His voice sounded husky in Hermione's ears. "My team is doing its very best to find out who wanted to hurt her and why. At the very least, she will _not_ be leaving Hogwarts without a guard." Hermione almost flinched at the authority in his voice but didn't question his words.

She saw the frown on the boy's lips and she reached across to grip his hand. "I'll be safe, baby," Hermione said gently. "There's nothing you have to worry about anymore. The Aurors and... ," she cleared her throat, "and _your dad_ will figure this out soon enough."

James nodded, appeased. He filled the silence between them for the next few minutes as he told his mum about his classes and his assignments. It gave her a sense of familiarity since this would usually happen back in London once James came home from school. Over tea, they spoke about their day as James would enthusiastically recount what he learned or what he had done that day.

The only difference was the other person in the room. Hermione's eyes flicked towards Harry's face. Hesitantly she looked at him, afraid of being caught staring. But he was no longer looking at her and had his full attention directed at James. He listened intently and eagerly to the little boy and it warmed her heart.

She was staring too long, though, since his eyes lifted and met hers. In a flash, his smile was gone. He was stiff again, and cold, hard. Ashamed, she looked elsewhere.

"-oh, I should go to class," James said, looking towards the clock on the wall. The lunch period was ending and afternoon classes were starting soon. He stood from the chair and leaned to kiss Hermione's cheek. "I'll see you later, mum," he said with a smile. Then Hermione watched when James turned around and so easily wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. "I'll see you later, dad," he chirped. He grabbed his book bag which he dropped next to his chair when he entered, waved at his parents goodbye, and left without so much as another look back.

The sound of the wooden door closing punctuated the fact that they were alone. After _eleven years_ they were finally in front of each other. Hermione didn't know what to do. She wanted to leave, she wanted to stay, she wanted to scream, she wanted to hide. She wished the bed would open up and swallow her whole. She could feel the shallowness of her breath, could feel the tears rising to the surface again, as she stared resolutely at her clenched fists.

"It's good that you're feeling better," she heard him whisper. His voice was soft but gruff. She raised her head and saw him looking at her. His eyes were an intense, dark green. He stood as still as a statue, his whole body tensed and motionless.

"Thank you," Hermione replied with difficulty.

The silence which followed her expression of gratitude was deafening. She lowered her eyes again and looked at her lap, at her hands, at _anywhere_ but the man in the room. When her eyes left his face, Harry felt his unfeeling demeanor deteriorating away. He crumbled from the inside out as the emotions which he had tamped down when James was in the room returned in full force.

"How could you do it?"

He voiced the question softly, painfully. The tears pooled at the corners of Hermione's eyes as she bit her bottom lip so hard that it drew blood. Her shoulders quaked as she tried to keep the sob inside.

"How could you just leave?"

Another question whispered with such anguish reached her ears. The tears fell and Hermione finally looked up. The sob left her lips when she saw Harry standing beside her bed, his knuckles white as it remained wrapped around the chair's back, his head bowed. His hair hid his face but she saw the droplets fall from behind them. He raised his face and she saw that he was crying. Tears fell from those green eyes and every droplet was like a stab in her heart.

"You didn't tell me you were _pregnant_ ," Harry whispered incredulously and angrily. His face was scrunched up in a fierce frown as if he didn't - _couldn't_ \- believe the words which left his lips. "You just _left_."

She didn't know what to say because she was asking herself those same questions.

How could she do it?

How?

"Damn it, Hermione, answer me!" He erupted angrily. His eyes were ablaze with fury and intense anger. He had never yelled at her before and it shook her to her core.

"I'm sorry!" She gasped, her whole body shaking as she wept. "I'm sorry. I didn't know… I shouldn't have…"

Her brown curls tumbled forward framing her face as she bowed her head and cried.

He felt the anger control him and he couldn't stop the words as they came out. "You left without telling me we had a _child_. I have a son I _didn't even know about_ ," he cried in anguish. Harry felt his breath come out in gasps but he persisted. "You… you made a decision that wasn't your decision to make _alone_ , Hermione. _How_ could you just leave?"

"Because you didn't want _me_!" She gasped, her head jerking upwards and looking at him in the eyes. Her proclamation shocked him and he felt confused and disoriented.

"What could you possibly know about what I wanted?" He whispered dangerously.

Hermione held his gaze as she told him what broke her heart all those years ago. "I was going to tell you, Harry. After the battle," she said softly. She flinched when he narrowed his eyes. "But I saw you kissing Ginny and I just… I couldn't do it," she admitted brokenly. "Your whole life you had obligations to fulfill. I didn't want this to be another one of them."

It was good that he was holding onto the chair because Harry felt like he was going to collapse. Him? Kissing Ginny? He tried to wrack his brain for that moment and saw it vaguely in his mind. It was in the Quidditch pitch and they were walking together and talking about their future. Harry sensed Ginny wanted something more after the Defeat but he had come to tell her that they were probably best being friends. He hadn't told anyone else about what happened in the Forest of Dean with Hermione, but it had been on his mind for months and he felt himself falling deeper and deeper into his best friend.

And he and Ginny _did_ kiss that day, but it was the redhead who initiated it. It was a parting gift, she said, before she walked away.

 _Fuck._

And the only reason he and Ginny even dated again was because he was so distraught about Hermione's disappearance that he found comfort in her.

 _Fuck_.

But that relationship didn't last long either, since his thoughts were still so consumed with his best friend months after she had disappeared.

Fuck.

Fuck.

 _Fuck._

Harry felt his world spinning.

That stupid kiss was the catalyst.

"You should have _talked_ to me," he voiced brokenly. "We could have spoken about it. I would have told you that…"

That it meant absolutely nothing because he was falling in love with _her_.

 _Fuck_.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whimpered. "I didn't want to come in between you and Ginny-"

"There was _no_ "Me and Ginny!"" Harry yelled, his voice hard. Hernione inhaled and stared at him, her eyes wide. He looked wild, frenzied. The whole mess was making sense in his mind and it made him so angry because it _shouldn't_ have happened like this. "Damnit, Hermione, that kiss meant _nothing_. If you had spoken to me I would have told you that!"

Her lips were parted in a gasp as she struggled to find the words to say. "But I saw… and before the hunt you and her were…" she gulped. " _Everyone_ expected you two to be together-"

" _None_ of that mattered because I was falling in love with _you_!"

She gasped. She felt like someone had just punched her in the gut because every breath left her lungs as she stared at him with wide eyes. His words kept ringing in her ears and she couldn't quite make sense of them. Even Harry looked shocked at what he had just said but he continued with so much volition.

"If you had come to me I would have _told you_ …" he whispered bitterly. "But instead you _left_. You took away my choice, my say. You just left me behind, Hermione."

She was speechless. Her mind was spinning and she felt like she was going to be sick. Her head hurt, her eyes hurt, her heart hurt.

He was falling in love with _her_.

 _Harry_ was falling in love with _her_.

"And I missed out on raising my _son_ ," he whispered desperately. "That's eleven years he and I would _never_ get back."

It was eleven years _she and him_ would never get back either.

"I don't think I could ever forgive you for this," he said sullenly. He brought a shaking hand up to his face to wipe away his tears. "I'm so angry at you that it physically _hurts_ ," he admitted.

Her sobs had quieted down but the tears continued to fall.

"But I won't let this get in between James and I. I already love him _so much_ and I _will_ be in his life," Harry said resolutely. Hermione felt herself nodding for she knew that, too. She had no wish to come in between father and son. Not anymore.

"But for you and I," he whispered, his voice deadly silent. Her defeated eyes looked towards him and saw all of the pain, and anger, and bitterness. "There is _no more_ "you and I". You mean _nothing_ to me, Hermione."

His words seized her. She felt breathless as she felt her heart breaking inside her chest. Her head bowed for she wasn't able to look at those angry eyes anymore.

She heard his footsteps as he walked around the bed and towards the door. She heard the door creak. She heard the rustle of his robes. She heard the door slam shut behind him as he walked out of her room and out of her life.

Her head remained bowed as she cried. She asked herself over and over again how she could have made such a big mistake.

Harry didn't love Ginny.

Harry loved _her_.

She felt foolish and pitiful and Hermione cried at the anger she felt towards herself. All those years of running and hiding and heartbreak and pain were all for nought because _she was completely wrong_.

She felt completely defeated for she knew he would never forgive her.

Hell, _she_ didn't think she could forgive herself either.

* * *

Outside in the main hospital wing floor, Harry sagged against the stone wall. He brought his hand up to cover his face and breathed deeply. He knew his words hurt but that was the _point_ , damnit! He wanted her to feel what _he_ felt: unwanted and unloved.

If only it were true, because Harry knew that he had spoken a lie.

He didn't have to dig very deep to know that she still meant so much to him and that really pissed him off.

He stood tall after collecting himself. His eyes were still red but he wasn't shaking anymore. He breathed deeply and his face transformed into a mask of indifference. He walked out of the hospital wing and towards his office, smiling and greeting the students and other professors he passed by in the halls.

But inside, his heart was breaking after every step he took further and further away from her.

* * *

His afternoon classes went smoothly and Harry retreated to his chambers after popping into the kitchens for some food. He saw James briefly again but told his son that he had some business to attend to since he was expecting a floo call from Remus.

He knelt in front of the fireplace at the designated time and watched as the flames turned a jade green. Then, his deputy's face appeared in the flames.

Remus said his name in greeting and immediately told Harry what he learned from the interview with Hermione. Harry listened and nodded along, only stopping Remus to ask clarifying questions. After Remus finished his recount of the interview, he told Harry about the Gryphons' progress - or rather, lack thereof - in getting the truth from Demetre Demos. Apparently, the museum director was still not saying anything and the request to use Veritaserum had been escalated by the Head Auror himself all the way up to the Minister.

"Good," Harry said. "The approval for that should come tomorrow. Let me know once it's in and I'll make time to go to HQ to be there for the administration."

Remus nodded. "Will do. And Harry, there's one more thing."

His eyebrows raised. "What is it?" He asked.

Remus hesitated a bit before continuing. "Ms. Weasley is here demanding to speak to you. She wouldn't leave. She said it's important."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the witch. "What does she want?"

"She wouldn't tell me," Remus said. "She insists she _has_ to speak to you."

"Bring her in," Harry commanded. He saw Remus nodding through the flames before he disappeared from sight. Harry waited a few moments before two faces appeared on the green fire.

One face was Remus', but the other was the face of his old friend. He found it difficult to look at her especially after the conversation he had with Hermione, but Harry knew it was no fault of Ginny's that this all happened. The redhead's face was filled with worry. Her strong eyebrows were scrunched on top of her eyes and her lips were set in a grim line.

"What's wrong, Ginny?" Harry asked.

"I received an owl at work today. I mean, I always do, but this owl was different. It was…" she struggled to find the words. "It was a scoop."

He knew what she meant. As assistant to the chief editor of the Daily Prophet, Ginny Weasley would receive mail, usually anonymous, containing scoops on new stories to be published. Some were whistleblowers spilling the truth about their companies while some were simple complaints or grand conspiracy theories. All of them had one goal in mind and that was for their story to be published. It was part of Ginny's job to fact check the scoops she had received and include them in the next publication if confirmed true.

Harry tried to understand where she was going with this for this was a daily occurrence at her job. "Alright, but what's the problem then?"

"Harry, I got a scoop about _Hermione_ ," Ginny whispered, her eyes wide. At her words, Harry's eyes looked towards Remus and the older wizard shook his head behind the witch. He hadn't told her anything for this case was top secret. Harry had asked Ron and Luna when they were at Hogwarts that they were to tell _nobody_ about what happened either.

" _What_?" He whispered. "What was it, Ginny?"

The witch shuffled on her side of the fireplace and retrieved something from her pocket. She unfolded the piece of parchment and held it up to the fire.

The first thing Harry saw was the photograph stuck to the top middle of the parchment. Even through the green flames he knew that it was in black and white. It was a still image of him and Hermione in first year sitting by the Gryffindor fireplace.

Underneath the photo were cut out letters forming a simple phrase.

HERMIONE GRANGER IS ALIVE.

Harry's eyes hardened when below that sentence was another photo. It was James grinning proudly with his foot resting on top of a ball and a small medal pinned to his jersey. An older Hermione was standing behind him and smiling. They were on a football field.

More letters formed a sentence underneath that picture.

SHE IS THE MOTHER OF HARRY POTTER'S SON.

His eyes flashed dangerously. It seemed like Hermione's plan of hiding James away from whomever was orchestrating this had failed.

The last three lines chilled his bones.

SHE HAS SOMETHING THE MASTER WANTS.  
WHAT'S MORE IMPORTANT?  
HER SON OR THE STAFF?

And it seemed like they were trying to draw her out by exposing her and her secret to the whole world.

Harry growled and barked an order at Ginny to speak to _nobody_ about this. She nodded frightenedly besides Remus. Then, Harry turned to Remus and told him to do _anything_ to make Demos speak, protocols be damned.

When the fire turned red, Harry stood from his position.

He was seething in anger at the _fuckers_ who did this.

How _dare_ they threaten his son?

They would have to go through _him_ if they wanted to hurt James _or_ Hermione.

Immediately his plans shifted since there was no way he was going to leave them in the castle.

He needed to be there to ensure that they were safe and protected.

He didn't think he could survive it if he lost them again.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This was a difficult chapter to write. Thank you to everyone who reached out asking if I was okay and for those who inquired about this story. It took so long because I couldn't quite put into words the very necessary confrontation. In the end, I wrote it how I thought it should be and I can honestly tell you that I feel so much lighter since that scene has finally passed. Thank you once again for your continued support and readership! ~Micca


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